いつまでも探していること (Itsumademo sagashiteiru koto)
by NightFall-sensei
Summary: Consider, if you will, a world where the construct of pokemon battles never existed. How would people defend themselves when somebody tried to use these powerful creatures for evil deeds? The answer is to make them into a police force. This is what the world is now, a war between the police and criminals, but not even war is just between two sides. There's always a wild card.
1. Just an Old Story

Hey guys, NightFall here with a new story idea to pitch to you guys. Well, by this time, I'm done with the second season of HDD, and thought I'd start up this new idea to counteract it. Essentially, my thought process is that HDD is definitely set in the main game universe with allusions to main series locations, gym leaders, and other characters, so I thought maybe the best way to keep any other idea from conflicting with that would be to set this one in a separate universe. Obviously, this is my over thinking starting to take over as I'm guessing you guys care little to nothing when it comes to that. Still, my story my rules. Well, from there, it's obvious that to keep the story from conflicting, the other universe would be the side games which are sort of their own little worlds to themselves, sometimes literally. That being said, let's see if I can get this idea out there and we'll see how it works. As always, information will be on my profile, and I look forward to this new idea.

 **DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN POKÉMON, BECAUSE IF I DID, REMORAID WOULDN'T EVOLVE INTO AN OCTOPUS.**

* * *

Prologue: Just an Old Story

Have you ever heard that there're only about seven truly original stories? Or maybe you've heard that any kind of narrative is simply a variation or combination of those original seven? That's kinda depressing when you think about it, though. Consider this, those original stories were first told hundreds, thousands, or even tens of thousands of years ago, and we haven't been able to come up with anything else since then? That's just a sad testament of human imagination, or is that really the point of what people are trying to say? Despite what people like to think, there are very few things, if any, that are truly unique. Something like that would have to be truly unlike anything else in the universe, and chances are something like it might exist. Even those original stories are similar in one aspect, they entertained people. They all had characters with identities, journeys, interactions, and everything that makes a story what it is. So, maybe the next time you're told that nothing can ever be truly original, take comfort in the fact that just because something is similar, doesn't mean it can't be its own beautiful entity.

Many people in this world are familiar with the idea of pokémon battles; sanctioned competitions of strength, cunning, and dexterity between two creatures of immense power and elemental abilities displaying the bond between pokémon and trainer. For many, it's a simple sport, nothing more than a fun way to weigh yourself against other people. And then there are others who choose to use it for, shall we say, not the intended purpose. Just like anything, there are two kinds of people: those that follow the rules and those that don't. But consider something first, the idea of a pokémon battle isn't one that was simply conceived from thin air, and the elaborate competitions in place around the world had to start from somewhere. But sadly, this isn't the story of how pokémon battles came into being. Rather, it is the story of searching for proof of an old story and the adventures that went along with that, and the battles that would present themselves along the way.

* * *

Dateline: September 29, Fall City, Fiore Region

Night had just fallen over the horizon, the changing seasons coming with the increasingly swifter transitions from day to night. A brisk wind blew through the air, picking up several of the fallen leaves, painting the scenery a mix of yellow, brown, and red. To watch them dance in the swirling patterns would have been lovely, if anyone was around to see them.

The people of the town, despite its bustling economy in its port trading, were all but hidden away in their homes, their doors and windows locked tight, and tucked safely away. They weren't necessarily cowering, but just cautious of the kinds of people who would be out at this late hour. Some children peered out of their windows to see if there was anyone like their mothers warned them about, but were quickly pulled away. The adults of the city knew that if they just stayed in their homes at night, nothing would happen. As long as they remained ignorant to it all, they'd be left alone.

The streets didn't stay bare for long. After a few hours of the sun disappearing, a small group began either quickly ducking behind houses so as not to be seen, wearing dark colors to hide themselves in the night, or in the case of the single man, walking proudly along the road. The two groups were definitely on the same side, neither seeming to impede the other's process. Behind the man in the suit swinging a cane in a giant circle on its curved handle stoically floated a giant creature cast entirely out of iron and other metals. Its body clicked rhythmically, the teeth of the giant gears that comprised it fitting perfectly into each other.

The mysterious man looked out from where he stood at the homes of all the people in town, and simply smirked as he walked by them, his hands outstretched as though challenging them to come at him. However, none of them did. The gargantuan behind him kept them from even peeking out their windows which made him almost laugh maniacally. He basically had the entirety of this town afraid of one person just because they were too afraid of getting hurt.

* * *

The group moved closer into town, more towards the shopping areas, different stores lining the streets. As soon as he reached the middle of the roadway, the man snapped his fingers, and the entirety of the black clad group rushed to the different stores. All of them stayed in groups of two, the man himself being shadowed by one of the grunt members. The two travelled further down the way to a smaller store with its lights still on. The man motioned at his subordinate and the younger man quickly removed his hood, unzipping his jacket with a more neutral color on the inside. This way, they looked less…conspicuous.

They walked inside the store, both of them looking up and seeing lines, entire shelves full of old books and manuscripts. For a small bookshop, only consisting of two floors, this could have some high-end merchandise.

"Can I help you?" the shopkeeper, an aging man asked as the man approached him.

"We're just browsing for the moment," he said, leaning over the front desk. "But I can assure you, we won't be leaving without a few acquisitions."

"Well, take your time," the older man encouraged. "I pride myself on giving people plenty of time to look around. I'm just surprised you two were brave enough to venture outside this time of night. Ever since that Scrapper gang showed up, people try to stay in their houses any time after seven. Hopefully the Rangers can put a stop to them."

"They make promises, but how many of them are ever kept?" the man questioned, the shopkeeper becoming a bit more wary of them, making sure to watch the younger one in the hooded jacket. "Let's face it, they're not police officers. Half the time, they act like glorified firefighters. I admire their efforts, but sometimes they need to admit when they're out of their element."

"I'm not sure I appreciate that tone, sir," the manager brought up. "I have family that's been a part of the Ranger program, and I've seen them take down just as many villains as they have saved people from natural disasters. Their partnered pokémon also make sure they can get the job done, so maybe you shouldn't speak so low of them."

"You should work on your customer service skills, my good man," the other said, beginning to walk around closer to his companion. "Why do you keep these books locked up?" he asked suddenly, the shopkeeper looking at a collection of books hidden behind a giant tumbler lock.

"They're a special collection," he answered. "I don't have them for sale. They're just a display. I usually just end up loaning them to the Ranger Training Facilities around town when they need them for research. I'm afraid I'm not going to open it for any other customer."

"Oh, that's fine," the man said, hailing his partner over, the younger man unloading a large duffel bag kept over his shoulder. "I'll just help myself," he finished ominously, holding up a large drill-like object with a giant clamp instead of the normal drill bit.

"What do you think you're doing?!" the manager quickly shouted, about to rush towards them, but was immediately cut off by the younger man, his jacket now covering his face. "Guess I should've figured you were Scrappers from the late hour. But you're not going to get that safe open with just an idiotic invention like that. I've had dozens of people try to steal from that. What makes you think you're going to be much better off?"

"Because the boys at our 'lab', so to speak, developed this drill to rotate anything it clamps onto at over 3500 rpm," the man explained. "That's about the speed that a vehicle rotates at when travelling seventy miles an hour. With a basic strength safe like this, how long do you think it'll hold out until it just shatters from the pressure?" he challenged, the four clamps quickly tightening on the ends of the safe tumbler.

The man watched a bit nervously as the tool was turned on, and it began pulling against the safe, able to hear it working, but no visible movement. He seemed relieved until they all heard a quick snap, and the safe made a full turn around. After the first full turn, the drill strained again, the shopkeeper realizing it wasn't going to hold if it really was that powerful. As the drill continued going through the different parts of the lock, the man in the suit looked back at the subordinate.

"Make sure we're not going to be disturbed at all," he ordered, the younger man nodding as he released the shopkeeper, the oldest out of them still in shock at how easily that machine was working. "Don't feel so bad. Our little gang is robbing all the shops on the street tonight. You shouldn't feel so special right now. And you better hope for their sake, my friend up there doesn't find anyone else." The older man immediately made a quick inhale and looked up towards the second floor.

* * *

The other member of this Scrapper gang climbed up the staircase, far fewer texts lining the shelves as most seemed to be full of nothing but folktales. He drew his finger along the spine of a few books, looking in between some of the cases to find any other customer. Honestly, he didn't expect anyone to be here given how scared everyone else in town was, and he just gave passing glances at the spaces in between shelves.

He passed by another, barely looking, but quickly noticed something seemed out of place. He turned back into the opening, and saw someone huddled over with a book pressed to his face. He could see the top rims of his glasses, and a long rod leaning on his side. From the length of his back, the Scrapper figured he couldn't be much taller than five foot six or seven, not necessarily short for his apparent age, but nothing he couldn't handle, especially from his thin build. As he walked towards him, figuring this kid would be the only he'd have to deal with, the Scrapper noticed a bit more. It was mostly the normal things; his hair was a dull color, almost appearing gray, reaching down his neck and a bit over his ears. Not too long, but longer than he was used to seeing. The only other thing that struck him was the pale color of his eyes from behind his spectacles. Cold and green, like a fresh frost over a field.

"Hey, kid," he called out, the young man pointing the end of his rod down the hallway.

"To your right, you should find it pretty easily," he said blankly, the gang member taking a second before hesitantly walking down the corridor created by the two bookcases.

As he reached the end of the hall, he looked off to his right like he was told and his shoulders immediately slumped over at the sight of the restroom. Turning back on his heel, he stomped back over to where the younger man was still seated too engrossed in his book to see who was glaring down at him. Now he could see him fully, wearing fairly neat clothing in spite of the time of day. He wore a pair of dark gray cargo pants with a matching pair of running shoes underneath, and a black buttoned shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Underneath that, he could make out the coloring of a dark blue t-shirt and a good quality watch on his wrist.

"Alright, kid, no more funny stuff," he tried to sound intimidating, brandishing some kind of club, several metal nodes lining the thicker end. "This thing will send a nasty shock straight to your system if you don't listen up. Hey, did you hear me!" he said louder, the one in front of him still not reacting to anything he said. "You're starting to get on my nerves, kid."

Suddenly, the book closed with the sound reverberating through the hall as the boy stood up. The gang member took a defensive stance while watching him carefully, and just saw him turn around, the long staff still leaning up against him. Gently, he placed the book back into a space where it come from off the shelf, and then ran his fingers along the spine of a few others. The gang member was still watching him in silence, and just watched as this kid just started walking down to the other end of the corridor. For a second, he forgot why he was even standing in front of him and then swung the bat behind him, making heavy steps towards the boy who probably hadn't even registered him.

"Are you trying to make me angry?" he asked, seeing him pick out another book, and then immediately sit back down on the floor, a large vein snapping in his forehead. "Okay, that does it!" he shouted, making a quick lunge at him with the bat held like a sword, giving a wide swing from above.

However, with a passive swing of the boy's rod, the club struck a curved tip covered in a heavy leather case, gravity forcing it down the entirety of the shaft. As it hit the ground in a loud thud, the Scrapper took a second to figure out exactly what'd just happened, and made another sudden attempt at an attack, this time swinging it to the side. But like before, the young man's stick caught it on the blunt end, and the rest of its length carried it off to the side, this time the rod coming all the way back around, nearly tripping the man after striking his leg.

"Are you just trying to toy with me, now?!" he questioned, his anger easily getting the better of him as the bespectacled one finally closed his book and looked directly up at him. "Now what?"

The boy never said anything, and slowly removed his glasses, tucking them into his shirt collar. He grabbed the long staff, and then held it up in a fighting stance.

"You wanted to fight," was all he said before the gang member quickly lunged at him with the bat again, the boy taking in a deep breath before lowering his stance.

Just as the Scrapper made another swing, the younger one's weapon made a giant circular motion forward, catching it again, and twisting it all the way around so it was stuck behind the man's back while the two were now in close quarters. With one hand on his own weapon and another on his assailant's wrist, the boy stared blankly and began intensifying his grip, forcing the club out of the older man's hand.

As it was just about to fall to the ground, the man looked back and a powerful gust of blackened wind blew from the end of the hall. With the large bookcases acting as a kind of funnel, the bat was carried clear over the edge to the first floor, forcing the gang member to look from the wind's origin point, seeing a curious creature. It was a pokémon like his superior's, but not one he'd seen before; a small spirit with a large skull instead of a face, its head cocked to the side with one large, round red eye staring back at him. For a few moments, the pokémon's eye looked as dead as the boy's, and then began to intensify as it lowered its head.

"Makotsu, meet your victim for this evening," the boy said, quickly shifting himself flat against the bookcase. "You're going to want to run," he directed to the gang member, the older man looking at him a bit confused until he turned back and saw the small pokémon charging at him.

With only a second to hesitate, the Scrapper turned away from the small ghost type pokémon, Duskull, but before he could run, the bony top of its head impacted with the man's back. As the pokémon the boy named Makotsu rebounded off of him, the man was sent ghost back down the hallway against the railing directly above the first floor landing. The two downstairs saw what'd happened, the man in the suit groaning as he motioned at the large metal contraption standing guard outside.

* * *

"Klinklang, if you could deal with that, I'd be much less inclined to hurt someone," he said, the steel pokémon following orders as it burst into the shop and floated just barely above the ground.

The massive gears continued cranking in their rhythmic fashion as it slowly levitated itself off the ground towards the second floor, unsure of what it was going to face. With both possible obstacles out of his way, though, the shopkeeper quickly made a break for the front desk and immediately pressed a button attached to the bottom. All of a sudden, an alarm rang out, nearly deafening those in the shop, the man in the suit turning back angrily as the safe finally was cracked all the way open.

In a quick escape, he grabbed the books and manuscripts from the closed display, and ran outside the shop, despite the owner's best efforts to chase after him. The man gave a loud whistle in the middle of the street, the other members of his gang reacting to the sound of it, already having heard the siren. The shopkeeper looked back up to the second floor, however, still aware that his young customer was probably still up there. He started climbing the staircase to the next landing, and saw what he thought was impossible.

Despite their obvious difference in size, the boy's pokémon was actually able to hold back the giant monstrosity. Klinklang's defenses, while impressive, were beginning to waver at the constant barrage of attacks made by Duskull. The boy himself, though, simply walked past them both, still keeping his face focused on the book he was reading previously, motioning for the shopkeeper to stay out of the way.

"Makotsu, we're leaving!" he called out to his partner, Duskull nodding as it jumped back away from its chrome plated opponent.

Next, it flew forward, Klinklang ready to accept the next attack, but was immediately disoriented after meeting the ghost type face-to-face. With a gleam in its eye, a powerful screeching noise came out of nowhere in Klinklang's head, almost bringing it to a state of confusion. As the pain began to intensify around it, Klinklang's body began producing its own electricity for protection, the field around it absorbing the damage it would've taken. Using the time its opponent took to use the Charge, Makotsu ducked under it, its small form catching some of the air as it launched itself from the second floor and to its trainer side. Before it was out of sight, the steel type focused its gaze on Duskull like it was studying it, seeming to lock onto a specific section of its body.

"Shall we leave?" the boy suggested, about to walk out of the store, feeling a tap on his shoulder, his partner glaring back at him, and then at the book under his arm. "Oh, yeah…forgot about that."

By now, the shopkeeper was still taking cover under his desk, a bit dumbfounded by what was happening. Suddenly, he heard the ringing of the bell just above him, lifting his head up to see the boy staring back at him, Makotsu doing the same from his shoulder.

"Um…what?" the old man wondered.

"I'm ready to make my purchase," the younger one said nonchalantly.

For a second, the two stayed motionless in silence, the shopkeeper hesitantly nodding, and brought up the price of the book the boy was interested in. As he reached for his wallet, he bent his head over, leaving Duskull exposed on his right side, a sudden beam of charged electricity wrapping around the railing like it was being drawn to something. And just before the boy brought his head up, Makotsu was blasted by the Charge Beam, rocketing from its place into the wall with a quick moan, the shopkeeper watching in shock as it happened.

"That should be exact change," the young man informed, the owner barely even paying attention as he counted, the boy smelling something like it was burning. "What's that?" he wondered, turning to his shoulder and saw a significant absence where his partner should've been. "Makotsu, this isn't the time to be playing around. I already told you we're leaving."

As the small phantom looked up groaningly, and gave an expectant look to its partner, noticing the Klinklang rising up again from the hallway, and moving towards the lower landing. Without warning, Makotsu flapped both of its wispy arms, two small bursts of fire impacting with the steel monstrosity, stunning it long enough for the two to run out of the shop and keep the old man from any more danger.

* * *

Now out in the middle of the street, both pokémon and human looked towards the farther end to see a veritable army of gang members staring back at them, and in the middle of them all, Klinklang's trainer. The man straightened his tie and took a few steps forward, ready to address the younger boy specifically, the strike of his cane on the ground echoing in the night.

"Well, color me impressed, my young friend," he said, giving a slow clap as the other Scrappers watched carefully. "I wouldn't have expected there to be a trainer in that bookstore at this late hour. Then again, I suppose you'd have to be one if you're brave enough to be outside the same time as us," he confidently figured, Makotsu turning at the sight of the steel pokémon exiting the shop, hovering from the boy's shoulder and to the ground facing it. "Well, any words you'd like to say?"

"Not really, I just want to find a hotel," he said, placing his newly acquired book in a small bag draped over his shoulder. "Makotsu, don't waste time patronizing other pokémon. I think this is the third time I've said we're going."

Duskull begrudgingly agreed and made a quick flap towards the metal creature, lifting itself further off the ground, and back to its partner's shoulder as the two began to move towards the group, using the long staff as a kind of walking stick. As he got closer to the man in the suit, the older one couldn't help but feel…insulted by how little he was being thought of.

"Weren't you told to not think lightly of your superiors?!" he angrily questioned, swinging the metal handle of his cane towards the boy, the ghost pokémon just staring back as the other Scrappers froze in place at the sight of it all. "H-How?"

In that one second, with barely any movement, the shaft of the rod had switched hands, and caught the hooked handle inches from where it would've struck the nape of his neck.

"I'd rather not do something like this," the boy said, giving a quick jerk on the staff weapon, pulling the cane from the man's hand, the others watching it tumble over the ground directly under Klinklang.

The man's anger quickly got the better of him. "Klinklang, attack!" he commanded, the steel type rushing towards the young boy and ghost pokémon, its body quickly charging again with electricity. "Give 'em a Charge Beam!"

With the command, a powerful blast of lightning shot forward at the young targets, Makotsu preparing to take the attack head on, removing itself from its partner's shoulder. Just as it was about to hit, though, as if it were breaking the very laws of physics, a flash of green darted out from the crowd of gang members, throwing a short punch towards the attack. Upon impact, the electric energy splayed out in all directions, Duskull watching in amazement as any residual damage was completely absorbed.

The new challenger was a different kind of pokémon, bipedal unlike the free-floating Makotsu, but more of the grass persuasion in terms of element. It had a long tail, and what looked like a mushroom cap for a head.

"Breloom," a commanding, feminine voice from behind the Scrappers began. "Get this place cleaned up now before this disease starts festering even more. And do so with extreme prejudice, I was enjoying my night off." Both trainers looked at the source and saw a woman, probably in her twenties standing out among the almost cowering crowd in what looked like a business suit, but with a recognizable badge brandished in her palm.

"Damn it, a Ranger," the man in the suit recognized. "Klinklang, change of plans, we're leaving NOW!" he ordered, another energy focusing in his pokémon's body, this time releasing a pulsating, reflecting light at the other two pokémon, exploding directly in between them.

With the constant barrage, Duskull was forced to move further back, Breloom putting itself forward, and kicking off the ground with a brilliant blue light gathering in its fist. Speeding past its target, the grass and fighting mix rushed back towards it from behind, nearly launching it at the other gang members. As the woman walked out from among them, she snapped her fingers as Breloom was already directly overhead, the sprout on its head releasing a curious powder. In a single fluid motion, she placed a piece of cloth over the boy's mouth in case any wafted over towards them.

The two watched as the black haired woman's pokémon almost immediately put the entire gang to sleep with the widespread Spore attack. Unfortunately, the man in the suit also covered his mouth, and upon the sight of not only his subordinates, but also his pokémon now unconscious, made a quick dash for the two who just stood watching everything. With the same fluidity, the man elbowed the boy in his chest, pushing him over a few feet, and grabbing the woman's hand, and with his free hand, placed the specialized drill from before directly over her wrist.

"Nobody said I'm ever going down without a fight," he said, about to attack the clamps on her bare skin, about to receive a punch from Breloom as it sped out of the crowd. "Don't even think about it!" he ordered, two of the clamps already squeezing down on her, the man finding there was no actual reaction from either of them. "Do you Rangers even have souls?"

"We choose not to show any kind of courtesy or admission of any kind to the likes of your gangs, Scrapper," the woman said bitterly. "If you want to break my wrist, go ahead. It'll just mean more jail time for you, anyway."

"As if prison scares me in the slightest," the villain said maniacally, the final two clamps coming down on her bone joints. "Shouldn't we hide the kid's eyes?" he mocked, the youngest of the three holding his head down with an easy breath coming out of his mouth, almost sending a chill up both Breloom's and Makotsu's spine, or lack thereof, as though they were reacting to something.

Slowly, with the other two watching in anticipation, the boy brought the staff up to a ready position, pointing it directly at the gang leader, and taking a low stance. At first, the man laughed it off as nothing until the Ranger noticed the expression in his eyes intensifying, and his free hand coming up in front of his face. With only his middle and index fingers extended, there was a noticeable trembling in both the boy and the ghost pokémon when his pointed his fingers down towards his partner. Duskull's expression shot open and it immediately jumped back behind its trainer.

With a single thrust forward from the boy's arm and Makotsu's arms, the leather case shot off from the top of the staff, and rocketed towards the two adults. However, the Ominous Wind whipped up by the ghost pokémon this time was much more powerful, carrying the covering faster and farther until it struck the man squarely in his jaw. It was obviously painful as the man held his mandible, and then stared menacingly at the boy about ready to activate the drill to nearly take off this woman's hand.

However, when they both looked at him, or at least where he was supposed to be, neither saw anything. Both the Scrapper and Ranger looked around and found nothing until a shaded figure appeared from the side opposite to his pokémon, holding his staff high above his head. This time, with a gleam in the moonlight, the two were nearly terrified by the broad and obviously sharpened blade at the end of the shaft.

With a quick and purposeful swing, the sword-like edge sliced cleanly through the drill bit just as the man was about to turn it on from instinct. With the disconnection from its other part, the tool just rotated pathetically, the woman showing the clamps to her pokémon, Breloom expertly breaking each of them off. With the sight of both his pokémon and his weapons down, the man in the suit looked up and saw the Ranger staring down at him.

"The police will be here shortly to pick up this garbage, and I want to make sure you get in that car first," she said, leaning over to stare into his nearly petrified face. "Just so you can be the most cramped when we put all twenty of you in the same car." Clearly she enjoyed this part of her job, but as far as the young boy was concerned he was done, reaching down and fitting the case back on the blade of his weapon, retying it, and giving a quick click for his pokémon.

Just as Makotsu floated back to his shoulder, he began to walk away, only to feel an intense grip on his shoulder, looking back with a slightly nervous grin at the Ranger who still hadn't looked away from the gang leader.

"And of course, we need to have a nice little chat, my young friend," the woman continued from earlier with a wild, terrifying grin on her face.

"Are we making dinner plans?" the boy asked with a smirk, only for it to immediately disappear as the door to a small interrogation room shut closed with the lights all focused on him, only his earlier lazed look remaining.

* * *

"What were you thinking, you idiot!?" the woman shouted, both her and Breloom pacing back and forth past each other, the boy letting out a passive sigh as he reached into his bag while the Ranger continued lecturing. "Had I not been there to do something, I doubt things would have ended as quickly as they did. I'd say we were lucky in this situation," she went on, turning back to him, only to see his feet propped up on the table with a sketchbook in front of him, causing her to immediately fall over. "Maybe it should be me that kills you."

"Now, now, Miss Cecilia," another voice came from the doorway, this one also feminine, about the same age if not a few years older with hair similarly dull in color to the boy currently being interrogated. "Keep worrying like that and you'll start to get wrinkles."

"Personal appearance doesn't matter in the face of what just happened," the Ranger, apparently named Cecilia, commented, turning her attention back to the boy. "After witnessing what this kid did, I'd say I've earned a few minutes of worrying."

"So I was briefly told when you burst in, saying you were going to interrogate him," the other woman said, the boy noting the difference in condition in the two's Ranger badges. "So why don't we start off simple? What's your name?"

"Iori," he answered. "My full name is Iori Hasegawa," he finished, still looking down at his paper, drawing at a moderate speed, looking up every now and again to stare intently at Breloom, the grass pokémon almost feeling bashful at it.

"That's not a very common name in this country," the second woman noted, Cecilia obviously not enjoying this small talk. "And what is this little one's name?" she asked, stroking the underside of Duskull's face, a contented groaning sound coming from the spirit pokémon.

"Makotsu," Iori answered, looking back up at his partner. "My teachers named him using the characters for 'demon' and 'bone'. I thought it a bit cliché at first, but after a while, the name grows on you."

"I suppose so," they continued. "Now, Iori, we do have some serious business to talk about. You just helped apprehend some of the most dangerous criminals in this part of the country, and we need to know everything that you know. So, what do you exactly know about Scrappers?"

"All I know is what I've seen in news articles," the young trainer started, continuing the draw as Cecilia walked around him and looked down, seeing he was sketching an outline of Breloom, the grass and fighting mix unsure of whether it should move or not. "I've heard they're gangs of thieves that use advances in science and technology to break into otherwise well secured places for profit and gain, maybe get some new tech for what they already have. Something like that drill that guy tried to use on her," he said, pointing directly at Cecilia despite her still moving.

"Yes, and I suppose you know how we are," the woman wanted to make sure.

"You guys are Rangers," Iori continued. "You're trainers like the Scrappers, but instead of stealing, you largely use your pokémon for helping others in dangerous situations. Normally stuff like natural disasters, hostile environments, and rehabilitation of wild pokémon affected by disease. Since Scrappers have become so common, you guys also act like police specific for them."

"Exactly," the interrogator confirmed. "So our questions are going to be very brief on this matter since we have all the offenders in custody. First, why are you even here? Second, what is that weapon behind you? And third, why are you drawing my Breloom?!" she grilled, adding extra emphasis to that last one.

"One, I'm looking for something and sadly it's not something that's common knowledge, so I'm going from place to place to get more information," Iori started. "Two, it's called a naginata, a pole arm weapon from my culture. My teachers called it the Winter's Blossom; again, the name kinda grew on me. Third, drawing helps me relax in tense situations," he said, looking from behind his glasses. "Also, it's an unattainable dream of mine to see all the pokémon in the world, and record them in some way. Maybe someday it can be used for something interesting."

"I do agree many pokémon are still mysterious to us," the second woman said. "But you said you're looking for something. What is that, Iori?"

Pushing the drawing aside, the first woman looking impressed by the amount of work relative to the amount of time, Iori leaned forward in his chair. "I'm looking for evidence of the Ransei Region." For Cecelia, this meant very little, nothing more than an old story.

"Really?" the other woman continued. "I've heard it's all just myths and legends. It can sound very farfetched with stories of ancient warlords fighting alongside their pokémon, able to give them extra strength in battle with magical powers. Do you think they're real?"

"I'd be remiss if I didn't believe in the home of my ancestors," Iori said with a confident grin, tucking the sketchbook back into his bag, patting the cover of the book he just bought. "Besides, all stories have to have someone who told them. For me, the Ransei Region isn't something that my parents told me at night to get me to keep training with this thing," he said, the long rod of his weapon draped over his shoulder. "That place is real to me, and even if it is all gone, I want to find a piece of it, to prove that there was at least a place."

While Cecelia was looking at him like he was a bit crazy, the older woman smiled and stood up from her chair. "I wanted to know, Iori, if you were at all interested in becoming a Ranger?" she offered, extending her hand, Iori removing his glasses and tucking him into his shirt pocket.

"No, I'm not," he answered calmly, the woman smiling back as she sat back down.

"I didn't think so," she admitted. "But the other training facility heads would have my job if I didn't offer you the chance. But can I ask on more thing?" she asked, Iori waiting. "Will you fight against the Scrappers with us?"

"If I'm there, if they're doing something I don't like, and you guys need help again, I might be willing," he said, beginning to walk out of the interrogation room, weapon slung on his back with a harness and Makotsu above his shoulder.

"Why don't I at least give you lodging tonight?" the chairwoman of the Ranger training facility called out to the open doorway. "If you just talk to one of the attendants outside, they'll take you someplace you can rest for a while."

"I humbly accept your kindness," Iori said, walking further away as Cecilia sat back down in the seat he'd been sitting in, Breloom finally letting out a breath and collapsing to the ground.

"Well, he's interesting," she commented.

"I think so," the chairwoman agreed, playing with the ends of her long dirty blond hair. "Were you ever told stories of the Ransei Region when you were a kid, Cecelia?"

"Yeah, my mom and dad used to tell them to me and my siblings," the Ranger admitted. "Can't say I ever believed them, but they were kinda cool. Better than the nursery rhymes some kids were forced to listen to. At least our stories had a bit of depth to them."

"I think it'd be interesting," the older woman began. "To see someone who could help their pokémon when they were fighting side-by-side, I mean. It was said that in the Ransei Region, a warrior could infuse a magic power that increased their pokémon's speed, strength, defenses, or even their health. Sometimes, they would afford a pokémon special powers that gave even more strength when they defeated pokémon in hordes, or allow them to heal all of their allies. There's a certain romanticism to it all."

"What's your point?" Cecelia asked bluntly.

"What if that kind of stuff was genetic?" the chairwoman wondered. "Maybe it was something the Ransei Region's Descendents could do, as well." She left the room, the younger Ranger giving a large sigh now that she was alone.

"As if something like that is possible," she said to Breloom, suddenly remembering the expression on its face when Iori took that second to breath, or the unnaturally strong wind gust Makotsu was able to make. Nah, that was all coincidence…or was it?

* * *

Characters:

Iori Hasegawa and Makotsu the Duskull: NightFall00

* * *

Prologue Complete: Can we still call this a prologue? I mean, this is almost twice as long as some of my other prologues that I've written in the space of a few hours of getting an idea for a story. Then again, maybe the fact this is so long means it has a better chance of sticking around, especially if I'm willing to work this hard at it. Can't make any promises, but if you guys get as excited about this as I am, there's a good chance. So let's talk a bit about this shall we? For a prologue, there's quite a bit of stuff happening here. We got the introduction of the different kinds of characters, the intro to our main character Iori, and honestly a bit less than what I wanted. In a perfect world, maybe I would have ended it sooner and had the interrogation scene a bit later, but at the same time, I think I needed this in there to get the exposition of the different characters out of the way. But I also took things out about the scene that I can add in later scenes.

So, for those that want to help make characters for this story, head to my profile where the info will all be there. I have to reiterate that you actually need to read the form and understand everything, and make sure you read it to the end. NO OCs BY REVIEW, ONLY BY PM. Follow these rules and actually be willing to work, and we might be on the verge of something great here. Thanks for reading, and until we meet again, ja na.


	2. How Things Start

Hey guys, NightFall here with the first actual chapter of my story. Based on the title this time, we're just going to call it ISK, some of you may have picked up on that, but I digress. By this point I've gotten some great OCs for this, so thank you for that, but then again, I like to think if you're willing to take the time to indulge me on my insanity, you can make anything great. For those of you used to the way I write HDD, keep in mind this story is probably going to have shorter chapters, for whatever that's worth. Given my normal chapter length is about 12k shorter doesn't always mean "short." Chances are I'll shoot for an even 10k, but if I start getting a bit more ambitious down the line, maybe I can bring it up. Anyway, the first few chapters for this story are probably going to have just a bit more exposition than most others later in the story, and we'll see if I can actual make something out of this. Thanks for reading.

 **DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN POKÉMON, BECAUSE IF I DID, REMORAID WOULD NOT EVOLVE INTO AN OCTOPUS.**

* * *

Chapter 1: How Things Start

Things always seem to be at their worst at the beginning. Stories, movies, pretty much anything that follows a path is always the roughest when it all starts. Consider if you will a job you're given that involves a lot of repetitive work. You're given a clear task and goal, and you know that it's not really going to take that long to get through. But when you first start out, it feels like it'll take forever. As you work your way through it, though, you can look back and see that the progress you made is increasingly getting faster and far less aggravating. It's because you find yourself in a rhythm, often forgetting about every step of work you've done as opposed to when you first start. Beginnings in a story are often the same. At first, they seem to be the worst part, little to no buildup leading to them and instead having to consider everything about the scene you're describing. But just like that work load, as you get through it, and the rising action and climax come to pass, that you can look back and remember that a story cannot come to an end if it never began anywhere. Even the story of Iori and his hunt for the Ransei Region, the story would lead him to many different people and many places, but always with the beginning of a story.

* * *

Dateline: September 30, Fall City, Fiore Region

Morning was coming just over the horizon of the port city, the colorful autumn colors mixing with the landscape to make something most artists wish they could be creative enough to paint. Inside of a large room, a pair of desks planted against the wall with a similar number of beds on the opposite side, there was a stirring amidst one of the covers nearest to the window. With a quick thrust, the blankets were cast directly off, and towards the other bed, a young man emerging from them, his eyes still half-closed as he walked over to one of the desks.

For a few seconds, he just stood in front of it, waiting for something to happen until the time changed to exactly eight o' clock, and an alarm began buzzing. With a single movement of his finger, the sound switched off, and the boy walked over to his closet, lazily picking out his clothes. He walked back in front of the opposite side bed in his room, another movement noticeable underneath the blankets that immediately made him walk backwards to it, still holding up his clothes as though nothing happened.

He looked over with half-asleep eyes, and could see the top of somebody's hair, noticing the gray hue. Carefully, he stepped over to the head of what he thought was an empty bed, and pulled away the covers as lightly as possible. Only able to open one of his eyes completely, the boy cocked his eyebrow and then slowly lowered the blanket back over Iori's head. Evidently, the room the trainer had been showed to was already occupied by somebody else. The other man walked back towards his bed and quickly dressed himself, looking over to the far corner of the room, receiving the first rays of sunlight that seeped through the window.

"Michi," he called out, what looked like a mass of vines and a giant, ovular face looking over at him. "When we came back last night, you didn't take a pleasure trip and bring something back with you, did you?" he asked, half in earnest and the other in sarcasm, a smile on his face, the pokémon, a Carnivine, shaking its head, and looked over to the other bed. "Yeah, clearly we were either playing host and didn't realize or that guy actually did slip us some drinks on last night's mission. I'll call someone, maybe they have some idea of who he is. Must've come in when I was already asleep, though. Don't think I'd forget a human size lump in my storage space of a bed."

Looking to the far side of the room next to the bed, the young man could see a mass of discarded items against the wall, another smug grin on his face as he walked over towards a phone one his desk. Taking a seat, he looked at himself in the mirror, trying to straighten out some of his dark brown hair, much of the wavy strands refusing to follow his commands. Some of it was long enough to fall into his similarly colored eyes. Although he was probably a Ranger, either in training or fully licensed, his skin was pretty pale, the bridge of his nose covered in freckles. Overall, his entire build was pretty frail, weakened shoulders, and even the pace at which he walked was kind of pathetic. After getting dressed it was clear most of him was pretty plain, a white t-shirt underneath a red flannel jacket, and a regular pair of jeans and sneakers.

He brought the phone to his ear and started dialing for somebody who might be able to help, or at least one of the few people he was actually able to talk to. The phone rang a few times, and a loud rumbling was heard from upstairs a few floors away. The boy face-palmed and just tried to keep from getting too irritated with him.

" _What up, dude?!"_ another voice suddenly appeared on the receiver for the phone, almost deafening the caller.

"Hey, Cyril, it's Norihisa," the first boy said, the Carnivine named Michi patting him on the back, trying to comfort him as clearly this Cyril was already raising any kind of borderline high blood pressure. "Listen, can I have you come down to my room before you head to class. I've got something that I need you to take a look at. Honestly, I'm too awkward to call anyone else."

"I will take it as a personal compliment you asked for me specifically to do this," a voice on the other end of the door said, Norihisa looking between the open doorway and the phone. "What? You said you wanted me to look at something, so I came down as fast as I could to investigate. And I brought my trusty partner with me!" Cyril declared, holding up a small pokémon in his arm, the electric type looking just as out of breath as anyone would coming down four flights of stairs.

"How did you…," Norihisa wanted to say, but figured it wasn't worth hearing. "It's over there on the bed."

Immediately, Cyril took a large step into the room, the other Ranger just watching him silently. Cyril was definitely more conducive to the traditional appearance of that occupation, having a much stronger, larger body. Compared to Norihisa who was maybe an inch taller than Iori, Cyril stood at six feet with a healthier skin tone. His hair was a similar color to the Ranger, his reaching a bit further down his face, his bangs reaching down around his face and towards his chin, long streak of blond mixed into them with a massive cowlick over his forehead. Norihisa was one of the only people to know his eyes were a deep shade of dark blue, mostly because the way he kept them made them almost seem like slits from keeping them almost completely closed. Even his clothing made him seem more relaxed, a white t-shirt underneath a loose gray cardigan, and a black pair of jeans over his combat boots. To top it off, around his head to keep his hair somewhat controlled, a white bandana was quickly tied.

At his side, the electric pokémon had regained some of its energy, jumping around his legs playfully, and then up on the bed where their subject was. Its blue body was topped with what looked like a small black mane, and yellow rings around its ankles.

"Svetlo," he called to his Luxio, the feline reacting as they both watched, and slowly pulled away the covers to see Iori still sleeping. "Hmm," he started, snapping on a rubber glove Norihisa tried to find where he got it from, but let it go and just watched him poke him. Surprisingly, there was no reaction from the younger trainer. "I can tell you only one thing about this boy, my good man," Cyril started as he turned around. "He is…," be built up. "…asleep."

Norihisa and Carnivine immediately fell over as Cyril just watched Iori inquisitively.

"Yes, this person is definitely asleep," he reiterated. "And he's not waking up any time soon."

"And what makes you say that, Sherlock?" the other Ranger asked.

"Simple, he's not just asleep like you and I are in the morning," the oldest of them said, Svetlo picking up his sleeve and then dropping it. "He's in a deep sleep, almost like he just achieved the whole rapid-eye thing. He was probably awake the entire night, and just now got to sleep. So don't disturb," he whispered, quickly shushing Norihisa. "Besides, having a pokémon like that would keep anyone awake at night," he quickly brought up, pointing to the ceiling as they both saw the Duskull Makotsu contently sleeping on the ceiling.

"Ghost pokémon are primarily nocturnal," Norihisa remembered. "You think him having a ghost type as a partner would make him the same way."

"All I know is that we, you could say, don't have a 'ghost' of a chance in waking him up," Cyril said, slapping his own knee, trying to hold back his own laughter, Norihisa and Michi just staring at him coldly. "I feel like I'm talking to a produce section," the Ranger added on, slapping his own knee again at every bad pun he made.

"I hope you bruise that knee doing that," the younger Ranger grumbled under his breath, Svetlo looking up at him with a slight growl for threatening its trainer. "Let's just get to the lecture hall. The headmaster wanted to give us some kind of report today. Maybe he'll wake up when we get back."

And with that, the two Rangers left the room, Cyril giving a short smile at the sight of Iori's sketchbook, a full picture of the grass type Carnivine sleeping in the corner. As they closed the door, Makotsu's eye appeared in its mask, dimming the lights in the room and falling down to its trainer's side, allowing them both to get some rest.

* * *

The Ranger's Training Facility from the outside was huge, spanning across a full length of the city. Many of the buildings for instruction, mostly for the younger residents, looked like they were built a hundred years ago with a much more antique feeling to them, with their domed lids, steeples reaching to the sky, and even the gothic design of the cathedral on campus for those of a more religious persuasion. Both Cyril and Norihisa were old enough and far enough in their training that the Facility was more of a temporary home, or just a central base for when they weren't on missions. The only places they went to nowadays was the lecture halls for meetings, much like today.

The building they found themselves at was probably the most ornate of them all. On both sides leading to the stairwell right before the door were two large statues of legendary bird pokémon. As the two entered, similar statues of other pokémon spoken of in folktales lined the perimeter, only one person every having used this room. In the room with them were probably about fifty other Rangers all waiting for what was going to happen. Each had their own pokémon at their side so Norihisa and Cyril both took a saluting stance towards the back, Michi and Svetlo doing the same.

A few minutes later, a few more stragglers had made it to the building, and a pair of doors at the far end swung open, both the dark-haired Ranger Iori met last night and the blond chairwoman entering. Behind them, Breloom followed, closing the side door with its tail, the entire group in front coming to complete attention at the sound of the slam. Cecelia looked out at the advanced group of Rangers and smirked at their following the rules.

"I never get tired of them doing that," she said, coming to a full salute herself as the chairwoman passed by her.

"Trust me, if I didn't love this job, I'd leave it for this exact reason," she said, taking to the podium, and giving a deep sigh as she looked out at the others. "Okay, okay, you guys can all go to a resting position, or whatever you want to call it. Nothing I hate more than a formal gathering," she said under her breath, the rest of them taking a more relaxed standing position. "Okay, so with the recent arrest of a large portion of a local Scrapper gang, it's clear that we're at least doing some damage to their ranks. Last night, Miss Cecelia helped apprehend about twenty Scrappers and their leader with little to no injury caused to either side involved. This is our goal in the long run, people. We're not trying to be action heroes or secret agents you see in movies. We can't be doling out our own justice like a bunch of vigilantes. Granted it's more fun, but not what we're going for," she said, the rest of them giving a courtesy laugh. "The point of this meeting, though, is to give out some basic information about recent missions people want us to take care of. Miss Cecelia, will you take over from here. And Cadet Inaba," she called, Norihisa looking up at the sound of his name. "I need to talk with you on a matter."

Yes, ma'am," the young Ranger nodded, about to walk out from the group when he immediately turned around and saw Cyril following him. "Um, is there something you need?"

"Not really, I just hate listening to her talk," the older trainer said, pointing back to Cecelia as she kept trailing off about current rescue missions and other business.

"It's fine, Norihisa," the chairwoman said, already in front of them two of them. "It's actually about this morning. I'm assuming you found your sudden guest this morning."

"Yes, ma'am," Norihisa answered promptly, Michi following him by staying in full salute the entire time.

"Oh, somebody shoot me," the woman said under her breath, grabbing onto his shoulders, and getting him to drop his stance a bit. "Look, when we're in official business you can call me 'ma'am' or 'boss' as much as you like and I'll have to call you Cadet, but right now, I'm just talking to two kids I helped train a few years back. You can call me by my name, you know."

"U-Um, okay," Carnivine's trainer started up again, clearing his throat, turning a bit red as he tried to bring himself to say her name. "Y-Yes, L-L-Laura," he finally forced out, almost out of breath from the stress that put him under.

"Aw, it's cute how you get so flustered about that," the chairwoman cooed, almost sounding like mocking as she patted him on the head. "Anyway, I just wanted to make sure it's not a big issue if you let him stay for as long as he needs. He's kind of a special case, and I'd like to see how much I can get out of him while he's still here."

"You can leave it to us, teach," Cyril said, extending his hand past Norihisa, shaking hers vigorously. "Still, can you tell us anything about him? It'd be a lot easier knowing something to at least get him into conversation."

"Honestly, I don't know much about him," Laura informed. "Cecelia and I met him last night after the arrests were made. We talked for a while, but we didn't get too much information about him or his overall motives. I don't think he's sympathetic to the Scrappers, but he's not necessarily on our side either. He's already said he doesn't want to be a Ranger, but in the future, he might be helpful when the Scrappers attack someone."

"So, just try to be friends with him?" Cyril asked, the chairwoman nodding. "Sounds like a plan. And one I immediately approve of. Anything else?"

"Actually, I'd like you to review this footage we spliced together," she answered, pulling out a small tape from her pocket. "Some of the security cameras in the surrounding buildings caught something I want you two to take a look at. When you find something report it back to me and Miss Cecelia."

"Sure thing," the older of the two said, beginning to walk away as Norihisa was still reeling from his own awkwardness, Svetlo nudging its trainer's leg. "Yeah, I agree. We need to get you a social life, dude. It'll be harder to accept awards or even take interview questions when you can't even call your own teacher by name."

"Force of habit," the other responded, Michi patting his back while looking at the video tape. "What do you think's on it?"

"Guess we'll just have to wait and find out," Cyril said, the two of them moving towards the library.

* * *

The libraries at the training facilities were often more heavily stocked than most others in their respective towns. Given the amount of research needed for even just a simple mission could be more extensive than most research papers, every library was stocked with several different services including a basic viewing area set up in a darkroom. And that's exactly where the two Rangers were seated on both sides of the television set. Given who sent the request, the two were given as much time as they needed, Cyril about to put in the tape.

"You know we could have watched this in a public room just as easily," Norihisa commented.

"Maybe," Cyril agreed. "But I wanted to watch it in here and I'm bigger than you, so there," he said with a smile, and loaded the tape into the player. "Besides, if the old professor wanted us to report on this, it probably means she didn't want too many people seeing what we're doing. I hope you're going to have more backbone when we talk to them about what we found later."

"Trust me, official presentations aren't as nerve-wracking as casual conversation," the younger Ranger assured, his friend just giving him an incredulous look. "It makes more sense when you've been inside my head."

"I'll bet," the other responded, pressing the play button, and sitting down next to Norihisa with Luxio seated underneath his chair. "Now, what's so special she wanted us to see?" he wondered, the tape starting out as nothing but the blank street, overlooking the bookstore that was almost robbed the night before. "Hey, what's that in the shop?"

As Norihisa tried to focus his eyes on the mostly blurred image, the window glass exploded open with the steel pokémon Klinklang appearing from the shop. The camera cut out, and then switched to another angle, this one showing Iori walking to the group of Scrappers, both of them recognizing their gray-haired visitor.

"Kid's got guts," Cyril commented, both watching as the leader of that particular group throw his cane at him, the full movement of the boy's weapon holding it back. "He's fast. Maybe it's best we let him sleep most of the day."

"Agreed," Norihisa confirmed, the video changing to when Cecelia showed up, blocking the attack of the giant Klinklang, the electricity fanning out to the sides. "Miss Cecelia is a pretty good combat specialist, isn't she?"

"Must've been why they took her off active duty as a search and rescue operative," the older of the two added, the video switching to where their superior had her hand caught in the monstrous device the Scrapper brought with him, the camera this time going in close. "Geez, that's gotta be uncomfortable. How'd she get out of that?"

Suddenly both saw something fly across the screen, striking the Scrapper in the jaw, and completely knocking him over. Both of them came to full attention in their seats, trying to figure out what was thrown. Immediately, the camera changed again, this one from a taller building, showing Iori looking out at the previous scene.

"Whoever put this together must've tried to figure out what happened, too," Carnivine's trainer determined, seeing Iori hold his weapon at a ready stance, and bring up his hand like a hand sign. "What's he doing?" The two continued watching, the young nonaffiliated thrust his weapon forward with the case over the blade of his weapon flying across the screen, pushed forward by an attack from Makotsu, the ghost pokémon staying behind as its partner ran forward. In anticipation, the Rangers watched as the covering hit the Scrapper, and Iori's blade slicing completely through the menacing device.

"Do you think that's what she wants us to focus on?" Cyril asked, giving Norihisa an expectant look, already knowing the answer to his own question. "What the heck happened there?"

"Well, I think, and keep in mind this is just me thinking; we just witnessed the rebirth of the ninja clans from a martial arts movie," the other half-joked. "Watch over that a couple of times, I'm gonna go get some books to check out. Maybe we can figure a few things out about what we just watched."

"Will do," Cyril affirmed, keeping his eyes glued to the set, rewinding and playing the scene over and over again.

After about twenty minutes, and Cyril watching the almost two minute clip over and over, rewinding and playing it back every time it passed, Norihisa came back in with a few large books. As they slammed on the table in the room, the older ranger almost groaned at the thought of doing book work again. It'd been at least a year since any of them had to even crack open a textbook, something about all of this was demeaning.

Let's start off with the easy stuff," Norihisa suggested, Michi coming in with a few more books, Cyril almost fainting after the sound they made on the table. "What kind of pokémon is he using? You ever see one like that before, outside of the one we saw in the room?" he asked, the tape now stopped on the aerial view of Iori and Makotsu. The fact it was both out of focus and a pokémon the two rarely ever saw made it difficult to identify without some kind of text.

"We already know it's a ghost type, I just can't remember the actual name for it," Cyril brought up, both remembering seeing it in the other's room earlier. "One of the encyclopedias should be classified by type, right?"

"Thankfully, yes," the younger one confirmed. "The only problem is most ghost pokémon are so elusive and mysterious we don't know a whole lot about them. Usually books like these are vague at best. But if we can narrow down the species, we can actually get somewhere with this. It had a skull for a face and a couple of bone designs on its back, so maybe that'll help."

"If it's a ghost type, every image is going to be an artist's rendering," Svetlo's trainer reminded. "Any time someone comes forward with a picture of a ghost type it's usually proven to be a forgery. We're all convinced it's impossible."

"Half the world still thinks they melt in light, so just give 'em time," Norihisa responded. "Okay, I think I've found it," he brought, pushing the book back onto the table, and showing the drawn picture of Makotsu's species. "It's called a Duskull. According to this, mothers used to tell their children that if they misbehave, a Duskull would come and take them away in the night. Eyewitness accounts of so-called Duskull attacks involve them surprising people and delighting in their screams by phasing through solid objects."

Cyril gave a nervous laugh. "If it's all the same to you, I'd rather not join you when you go to wake the kid up. Wouldn't want to lose anything important, you know, like MY SOUL!" he shouted at the last part, all of them hearing a loud shushing from the other side.

"This from the guy who walks around with a pokémon that can cause fainting spells from a tiny scratch," the younger one commented. "How many times was it over the weekend? A couple dozen?"

"Twenty-seven, but who's counting?" the electric trainer said under his breath. "Can we leave the topic of children-stealing spirits, and move onto the more kid-friendly topic, like what this is?" he asked, pointing at the bladed weapon just as it sliced cleanly through the converted drill.

"Yeah, made sure to grab a few weapon registries for that," Michi's trainer mentioned, handing off a volume to Cyril, hearing only a disgusted groan from him as he opened the book. "So, it's not necessarily a sword, but we definitely have to stay in the blades section of these books."

"Can we talk about the absurdity that the chairwoman is having us look up all this stuff when, let's face it, she probably already knows?" the older Ranger brought up. "Think about it, the only reason she'd let the kid stay in the complex is because she met him first. I don't think the Duskull and weapon were outside of that conversation. She obviously knows who the kid is, and there's something she's not telling us."

"She's a higher-up, when do they tell us anything?" Norihisa responded. "Maybe she just wants to test out abilities in information gathering. We both put in requests for free-range field work, so maybe she wants to know if we can properly assess a situation."

"Probably, but you can't blame me for being suspicious," Cyril said in his defense. "Watching nothing but cop shows for ten plus years tends to make one more than a little paranoid."

The two continued going through the encyclopedias for some kind of confirmation of what Iori's weapon was, Cyril stopping on one page and then flipping it around for Norihisa to see.

"It's called a naginata," he said. "According to this, most depictions of it are from female warriors. Apparently, during warring periods in history, women of higher status were trained in self-defense, and this was their primary weapon of choice. Nowadays, it seems women are the only ones who learn techniques with it."

"So, we can assume our friend is sort of an oddity even among his own groups," Norihisa summed up, looking at the page showing illustrations of fighting techniques. "I don't know it's kinda strange to think about anyone even carrying a weapon like that in broad daylight. I mean, you'd have to sneak around at night just to keep anyone from having to talk to you about it."

* * *

Slowly, his eyes turned towards the clock, fully realizing the two had been working on this for most of the day, already reaching to about five in the evening. "I'm sure they're waiting for us to give 'em something. May as well give 'em everything we've got."

"Finally," Cyril said exasperated.

Norihisa only kept a blank stare as he and Michi exited first, Svetlo and its trainer following after. The two started going back through the library to return the reference books, Cyril making it seem like the books weighed a ton whenever his friend saw him. Eventually, the younger of the two just stopped caring, and started running his finger down the spine of the shelved books, looking for where his were supposed to be. Upon reaching where one of the encyclopedia volumes went, he turned to the side to go further down, almost running into somebody about the same height as him.

"Sorry," he quickly said, about to walk around them when he saw that same dull shade of hair. He quickly turned around and saw him round the corner, the trail of Makotsu's wispy body following just behind him. "Hey, wait!" he called out, immediately getting shushed by everyone else. Michi wrapped its vines around the end of the bookcase and swung itself around the same corner.

Norihisa quickly joined his partner and just saw him huddled at the end of the corridor, his face already nose-deep into his literature. At first, the Ranger was about to step forward, only to take a cautionary step backwards, unsure of how to really approach him. The chairwoman had said he wasn't necessarily on their side, just not really against them. In reality, that didn't always mean the same thing as being an ally. He crouched down at the end of the shelves, watching Iori like a tracker, stalking his target and just waited for the right moment to go forward.

Just as he was about to, though, he felt a tap on his shoulder almost making his voice slip. "Hey, dude, where's this one go?" Cyril asked, looking at one of the books Norihisa brought out. "Why are you down there, anyway?" he questioned, looking forward where he saw the boy from this morning, looking down at his friend and nodding in understanding. "Hey, kid with the weird ghost thingy!" he almost shouted, receiving another chorus of angered whispers and shushing. "Have you all sprung a leak or something?"

Iori looked up, and saw Cyril approaching him, the Luxio Svetlo on the other hand looking more like a prowling predator. Its stance was low, and its head was level to the ground. In all fairness, probably just being cautious, so he passed it off as nothing. The two of them stared at each for a few seconds until Iori's overall silence made even Cyril's normal comfort with just about anything waver.

"So, how'd ya sleep?" he asked nonchalantly, Norihisa slapping his own face from the cliché line.

"Alright, I guess," Iori answered, pointing his vision back down, figuring he could continue without looking directly at this otherwise giant. "I know it's not your room I was staying in, so why is the actual occupant cowering behind the bookcase?" he questioned, Norihisa flinching a bit.

"That's a whole other can of Weedle entirely, let me tell you," Cyril said, looking back in his friend's direction. "To put it simply, he's not as good as I am with the talky-talky."

"Uh-huh," the youngest of the three sounded, mostly uninterested as he kept reading. "Did the chairwoman ask you to keep tabs on me, or was it the angry one with Breloom?" he asked.

"Technically both, but it was Miss Laura's orders in the first place," the electric trainer explained. "We were actually on our way to talk to them about you, if that's okay. Wouldn't want you to feel like your privacy's being invaded or anything like that?"

"For now, the two of you can just talk to Miss Cecelia," a familiar voice for all of them came from the end of the hall, just about every Ranger in the library standing at attention at the sight of the chairwoman Laura, even Norihisa coming to full attention. "I need to talk with Iori alone for a few minutes. Report what you've found to Miss Cecelia. Really it's just confirming some things we already know. After that, get ready for your special course."

"Yes, ma'am," Norihisa said, quickly walking past the two as he looked back at Iori the second he passed him, Cyril following him as their pokémon did the same.

"They're nice boys," Laura said, sitting down next to her subject of interest, looking over his shoulder at what he was reading, unable to decipher any of what was on the page. "So, how was your night?"

"The tall, crazy one already asked me that," Iori answered. "I already told him I was fine, and then I wanted to know why the other one was crouching down on the ground."

"Cadet Norihisa Inaba," the chairwoman identified. "He was part of the last group of trainees I had before my promotion. He's a nice kid, but he can get nervous around new people. In all fairness, though, the majority of people do. Cyril Tesar, the older one, is the oddball. I taught him as well, and I swear if he'd made one more bad pun about a pokémon, I'd be serving quite the jail time for what came after that. He's friendly, and he's pretty quick to make new companions. It's Svetlo you have to worry about, that Luxio. I give him one pat on the back, and the thing jumps up and starts clawing at me like a rabid Zigzagoon."

"It's a female, you're a female, it's nothing more than simple jealousy," the young man said in return. "What can you tell me about Inaba's Carnivine?"

"Michi?" she questioned. "He can be a lot like Svetlo, always trying to protect his trainer, but to a much lesser extent. They're both dreadfully loyal to them. It makes me worried one of them might get hurt trying to protect the other."

"The ultimate act of devotion on the part of a Link," Iori replied cryptically. "So what did you want to talk to me about?"

"Actually, I was wondering if you could do me a bit of a favor," Laura started out. "When I talked about the special course those two were taking, well, Miss Cecelia and I run that course as an extracurricular of sorts. And after seeing what you can do, I thought it'd be beneficial if we had you add in some input. I'm not asking you to teach anything, just say what you think when something needs to be added."

"Depends on the kind of subject you're teaching," the boy said in return. "Despite the fact I wear glasses, I'm not an intellectual. I only wear these because I've read too many books in relatively bad lighting."

"Believe me when I say, Cecelia's been trying to keep you from coming to it, too," the chairwoman said, Iori's head rising out of his book as she spoke. "She said she didn't want to give a kid like you the chance to show her up in front of all of her students and lose all credibility, and-."

"I'll do it," the younger one said with a smug grin. "I suddenly feel very motivated," he finished, his voice still as tired and relaxed as always.

"Tell your face," Laura said, a triumphant sneer on her own face after making it all too easy to get him on board. _"Even if I can't get you to become one of us, somebody like you with your skills is just what we need to help in our fight."_

* * *

Just on the outer edge of the training facilities sat a much more humble building, the sign out front reading "Gymnasium." It was just getting to sunset when Iori followed the chairwoman inside. The lights were already on, and the sound of some kind of event was going on. Looking around the hallways and such, though, he could tell this wasn't necessarily for public consumption. Entering the hardwood floored auditorium, though, Iori's eyes opened pretty wide at the sight of something he never imagined a Ranger actually doing, at least from what he knew about them.

Last night, he remembered Cecelia's Breloom being used to incapacitate the majority of the Scrapper gang, and even hold back the leader's Klinklang, but this was something different. Right now, that same pokémon was deadlocked in a battle with another fighting type he'd seen before, a Machoke. And instead of avoiding a direct confrontation, she was instigating it. Breloom was like a professional boxer, its foot movements light and its punches fast, the other pokémon completely overwhelmed by it all.

As the battle continued, Iori noticed a larger group of people on the bleachers, Laura directing him towards that area. Seeing the movement from the side, Norihisa and Cyril saw their mysterious houseguest from this morning sit back down, Makotsu floating above his shoulder. Immediately after sitting down, the young man reached into his bag and pulled out his sketchbook. Flipping through some of his earlier pages, a picture of a similar Machoke came up. Isolating the page as the two continued their battle, Iori took the point of his pencil, and began tapping different areas of the pure fighting pokémon's body. With each one, miraculously, Breloom expertly tapped each one with its powerful Mach Punch.

After another few strikes from the grass mix, Machoke powered its way through it all, and immediately started punching wildly at its opponent. Iori shook his head and looked back down at his drawing, tapping the pokémon's left leg. As Breloom jumped back to dodge the other's attack, Cecelia smiled at her battling partner and reaffirmed her stance.

"Seed Bomb!" she shouted, the grass pokémon releasing a flurry of projectiles from its mushroom cap.

As the bombardment approached, Machoke tried to defend itself by putting its arms up as a barrier. However, as the attacks exploded against it, the resulting smoke easily blinded the helpless pokémon for when Breloom came rushing in once more with its Mach Punch. Now aimed for its leg, Breloom thrust its small fist forward, taking down the fighting type's left leg, and then swinging around, smacking it in the face with its clubbed tail. The pressure and damage became too much for it, and Machoke immediately went down, completely out of breath.

As the trainer ran towards his pokémon, Cecelia turned to the group, noticing Iori was in the audience. Her vision went back to her students and she took in a deep breath to project her voice.

"Okay, that battle should show you that a competition between pokémon is not going to be a straightforward fight like you'd see on the street," she started to explain, Iori flipping back through the pages of sketches to find Breloom. "Pokémon have natural attack capabilities that can be used to aid them in defeating an opponent. You can see wild pokémon using these attacks willy-nilly and often without thought, relying on their instinct over their sentient minds. The role of a trainer is to give guidance for that power. A battle is not just something a pokémon is forced into and is done by itself. It is a combination of the trainer's leadership and the pokémon's own abilities."

The Rangers in the room were taking in everything she said, and for the most part Iori agreed with it.

"Now, everyone," Laura said from the sidelines, walking up to her coworker. "You've all been taking these combat classes since you became fully-fledged Rangers, and you've done extremely well in preparing for real combat situations. But I thought it might be interesting for all of you to see an outsider show you his abilities on the battlefield," she said, the tip of Iori's pencil snapping as he looked up in confusion. Makotsu shared a similar look of confusion as the two superiors looked over at him.

"I'm sorry, what?" he asked, removing his glasses. "I thought you just wanted me to make fun of what she said," he said, pointing at Cecelia as Breloom's trainer stared menacingly at the chairwoman. "In all fairness, I didn't see anything wrong with the battle."

"Finally, some respect," she said.

"Except for the fact that by this point, Breloom wouldn't be able to do anything besides use spores which could easily be dodged, and is now completely useless in combat after focusing too much of its power on one opponent," Iori quickly went off, the rest of the Rangers looking at him with their jaws dropped. "I was always taught not to overuse any one skill a pokémon has, otherwise it can become too exhausted and making a transition to other moves might become more difficult with its muscles already locked."

Cecelia was at a loss for words, her mouth hanging open, trying to find something to say as Laura just chuckled at her reaction. "That's what I wanted to see you do, Iori," she explained. "How long did you study how to battle with Makotsu?" she asked, the others looking at the ghost pokémon, floating limp in the air.

"Eight years," he answered promptly, some of the people in the audience falling over.

"Really?" she exaggerated. "Then you must be an amazing battler that can probably beat any of us in this room, right?"

"Hardly," Iori said, Norihisa looking at him strangely. "A person's skill in battling is all dependent on their partner. Somebody with a pokémon that is stronger against mine in terms of natural power or can use attacks that are innately powerful against ghosts wouldn't have much difficulty with me."

At first, Duskull seemed a tad offended, turning away from its trainer, only to drop a minute later as the other students started mumbling.

"Would anyone like to battle Iori and Makotsu?" Laura asked, looking into the room, nobody really sure if they wanted to, some trying to sink into the bleachers. "Cadet Inaba, how about you?" she directed, the younger Ranger immediately standing up after being addressed. "I'm sure Michi can handle Makotsu pretty well, don't you think?"

"Um, I don't know," he answered cautiously, remembering what he'd read about the ghost type.

"Then, can I ask you something, Iori?" she wondered, the subject merely nodding as he looked down at his sketches, coming to the grass type Carnivine. "Would it be okay with you if Officer Tesar joins in on the battle? Maybe that would ease some of the tension for this battle."

"I don't mind," the younger one answered, Cyril already down on the battlefield, clapping his hands to get everyone else to move faster. _"Hmm, a grass type and an electric type,"_ he identified, Norihisa joining Cyril on the floor, both Svetlo and Michi in front of them. "Makotsu, let's see how it works out."

* * *

Sitting himself back down at the other end of the battlefield, his weapon placed over his shoulder, Iori looked down the way at both pokémon, turning to a fresh sheet meant for the electric pokémon. Cecelia held up a small hammer, and gave a bell a quick smack to begin the battle, Svetlo moving in first, able to move at a much faster speed than Duskull or Carnivine, sparks of electricity building up in its claws. With a wild yowl, Luxio tried to scratch at Makotsu only for the ghost type to place itself on the ground like its trainer. Just before the spark pokémon attacked, the ghost type melted into the ground, nowhere to be seen as Svetlo landed.

Quickly taking the opportunity, Iori took his pencil and began drawing out the pokémon literally a few feet in front of him. The lightning in its paws was still present, and the confused look it gave while searching for its target made it circle around itself, the sparks trailing with it. Most of the other people in the stands were wondering if Duskull had just ran away, whispering to the people next to them, when somebody noticed a shadow travelling along the ground.

Taking the same notice, Norihisa called out to Michi, the grass type throwing one of its vine-like arms down where the shadow was, finding it hit more than just the floor as the trail of darkness retreated backwards, Makotsu appearing in the middle of them. A noticeable mark was on its face from the quick movements of Norihisa's pokémon, and now found itself completely surrounded.

"Svetlo, Thunder Fang!" Cyril ordered, the electricity coursing through Luxio's claws now going to its fangs as the erupted into something like a saber-tooth's, completely cast in lightning.

"Michi, Leaf Tornado!" Norihisa shouted in the same, a powerful wind gust blown from Carnivine's arms, picking up bits of debris with it in addition to its own grass energy.

Almost literally caught between a rock and a hard place, Makotsu saw its options and looked back over at Iori. A part of the pokémon was definitely annoyed that he was still drawing Luxio, but also had a profound and probably misguided trust in its partner. Instead of trying to dodge, the ghost pokémon produced two small burst of fire and sent them towards its attackers. The one sent off to the left was swallowed up by Carnivine's attack, spiraling in the large vortex created until it basically disappeared, and the other was headed on a direct collision with Svetlo.

However, as the flame sent at the Leaf Tornado vanished, Norihisa and Cyril both saw the green coloration no longer apparent, making it appear as nothing more than an isolated twister. Taking the opportunity, Makotsu melted back into the ground, Luxio just barely missing it with its bite after having to dodge past the Will o Wisp, and then looked up to see its partner's attack coming at it. Thankfully for the electric type, it was fast enough to veer off to the side, completely dodging the strike, looking behind it to see the shifting shadows.

Without a second thought, Svetlo sent an electrical impulse into the solidified shadow, the stretch of shadow retreating back to Iori, Duskull emerging with small sparks of lightning covering its body. The trainer, on the other hand, was still buried in his sketch, tapping his pencil on the paper as he looked up and saw the state his partner was in. He looked at his opponents and their pokémon, and just gave a relaxed smile.

"Tell me, you two," he started out, standing back up with the sketch cradled in one hand. "Are you afraid of the dark?" he pondered, the fireball originally sent at Luxio striking the light switch, and the entire room was almost pitch dark, save for the moonlight coming in through the window. "As sad as it is for me to say, this is the only thing I know how to do. All I was ever taught how to do was fight. And that always left the question in my mind, what comes after the fight?" he wondered, much of the battlefield now covered in the blackened shadows, Duskull's body slowly sinking into them, the other two no longer having the luxury of the light to show them.

"Svetlo, Spark!" Cyril commanded, the electric's pokémon entire body now covered in its element, illuminating the immediate area, meaning it'd be difficult for Makotsu to just sneak up on it.

"Haven't you heard it's always darkest beneath the lamp?" Iori said, tapping the bottom of Luxio's stomach on his picture and sounding like he was whispering something.

Suddenly from directly below the lit up pokémon, an inky black gust of wind burst out of the ground, Svetlo being launched into the air, and then towards the other end of the battlefield as Makotsu reappeared. Without wasting any time, Michi whipped its vine's around, and tried to swipe at the ghost type only for two bursts of fire to appear directly in front of it. Carnivine was instantly caught up in the flames and then recoiled back, the fronts of its arms now burned.

"I did say that if you used a pokémon capable of attacks strong against mine, you'd be able to win easily," the only non-Ranger began. "But that's what makes battling so dangerous. In a world where people are only bonded to one link, once you meet a person with a pokémon stronger than you in basic nature, you find yourself at a disadvantage regardless of any assumed level ranges. Even if Makotsu is considered at that lower level, the difference in a battle is going to be the bond between a person and their pokémon."

"Then you better watch out," Cyril said with a grin, Svetlo standing back up, its fangs beginning to concentrate power once again, the same saber-teeth returning, but this time in a near pitch black color, even more so than the rest of the room. "I've heard priests and exorcists use dark pokémon to get rid of ghosts, so let's see how well this works. Svetlo, Crunch attack!"

Faster than before, the electric pokémon rushed at Makotsu, opening its gaping jaw and biting down as hard as it could on the ghost pokémon. Caught in the opposing pokémon's grip, Duskull tried to struggle free, looking up to see Michi rushing towards it. The ends of its burned vines were now the same black color Luxio's, Norihisa beaming with confidence.

"Michi, Feint Attack!" he ordered, the grass type swatting Makotsu out of Svetlo's mouth, and towards the ground.

As his pokémon flopped on the ground, Iori looked at both of his sketches, and marked the different weak points he'd hit, looking down at Duskull. Suddenly, he nodded and the ghost type turned its head back to the two other pokémon, slowly disappearing back into the darkness below it.

"Nice try," Cyril said confident. "But I think it's about time we shed some light on this situation," he suggested, Iori looking down at Svetlo who's entire body was completely charged with electricity. "Let's charge things up!"

The attack normally meant to increase the user's electric power was now being sent into the breaker that'd been tripped by Duskull's attack, turning on all the lights, this time making them all much brighter. Now, there was no possibility for undetected shadows on the ground, Michi levitating above the ground trying to find any sign of the requiem pokémon. However, for some reason, there wasn't any trace of it anywhere in front of them.

The two looked around the gymnasium, still not finding any shadows for it to be moving around in without being noticed. But as Carnivine floated in midair, Svetlo looked down underneath it. In perfect synch, moving as wistfully as it did, the grass pokémon itself was casting a shadow, the electric type looking down below its own feet, realizing something very quickly. Immediately, Luxio began rushing towards Michi, its fangs growing into the giant, dark type attack from before, about to strike from below the levitating pokémon.

"You chose wrong," Iori said, Duskull suddenly appearing out of the electric type's shadow from behind, its eyes gleaming in a shadowy aura. "Night Shade!"

Suddenly a powerful pulse of ghostly energy was being sent like waves into both of the opposing pokémon. The initial blast was so powerful Svetlo was launched back behind Michi, the grass type able to stay airborne for a while before Makotsu began increasing its own power output to its upper limit. Both pokémon were being pressured to the ground by the attack, Iori's relaxed look remaining despite the other two calling out for their pokémon. For a while, they weren't sure whether he was going to let up when something seemed to click in the younger male's head, causing it to twitch.

There was a word echoing in his mind as he tried to keep it from getting too loud, always turning his head away more when it increased in volume. "Demon…" was all he could hear after a while. It was young voices shouting at him now, like a mob of angry children all calling him that one word over and over again, at first starting out more spiteful and then just reaching to a point it sounded like a lynching. He turned his head back to where Makotsu was, his hand now gripping the shaft of his weapon. In an instant, he slammed the end of it on the ground, and everything fell quiet.

* * *

More than the other pokémon, he was the most out of breath, Duskull silently floating back towards him. The rest of the gymnasium was dead silent, Cyril's eyes shifting between his battling partner, their opponent, and the audience. He slowly reached into his pocket, and dropped something. The sound of a single pin dropping to the ground echoed through the room, everyone's attention now on him.

"Huh, always wondered if that was possible," he said, the others feeling a bit more relaxed, some of them chuckling at his attempt at humor, Iori moving towards the door, giving a quick nod to Laura and Cecelia, his eyes moving to Norihisa and Cyril.

"What do you think of them?" the chairwoman asked.

"As battlers, they need to learn to look at everything on the battlefield," he answered, still a little out of breath. "I was always taught that you're at your weakest when you're at your most confident."

"Okay, but what do you think of those two as people?" the woman tried again.

"In a contest between us…," he started out, his voice slowly becoming more distant. "I'd thrown in the towel before we even started. There's no contest as people. You've trained good people on top of good Rangers."

With that, Iori disappeared into the approaching night, the chairwoman walking back to her coworker, both of them looking at the two weakened pokémon.

"So what'd they tell you?" she asked.

"Nothing we didn't already know," Cecelia answered. "I'm still not sure why you even had them go over the tapes when we already knew everything about it."

"Because we didn't make that tape ourselves," Laura said, taking a seat on the bleachers. "One of the outposts confiscated it off of somebody trying to go through the city borders last night. They didn't resist so we figured it wasn't worth it to prosecute. They brought it to me after Iori already left, and there were a few things I wanted to see if those two could figure out from watching it."

"If they didn't know somebody else made it, what were they going to figure out?" the younger woman questioned.

"All I told them was that it was spliced together tapes," the chairwoman reminded. "Taking clips from different angles means that we didn't change anything about them, so why were some of them trying to zoom in on our young friend?" she posed. "The person we got the tape from didn't have any connection to a local Scrapper gang, but being able to manipulate those security cameras means they probably had help if they're not part of that group."

"In other words," Cecelia began trailing off.

"After I figured that out, I wanted to know if they had any records of who it was," Laura continued on. "According to our records, she was an unknown. And chillingly enough, I think we know what happens when we meet an unknown entity."

"You think this person's like the kid?" the other asked.

"It's more than possible," the older one confirmed. "But more than her just being like Iori, this war just became much more complicated. Before, it was just us versus them, and now it's like we're going to enter an arms race. If these people really are direct descendents of the Ransei Region and have that same power described in legend, we have to be the ones to attain them. At least keep them out of the hands of Scrappers and the like. A girl like that could become unstable."

"Do you think those two would be able to understand the position you might be putting them in?" Cecelia kept questioning.

"I remember the days when Rangers were a symbol of help," the chairwoman started, turning away from the gym, and moving outside with her friend in tow. "Before, we were just simple protectors against nature. Our pokémon were used to save people. Now look at us, we're training our ranks to become soldiers, making sure they know what to expect in combat, and what to do when somebody tries to actually kill them. I don't know if those two are going to be ready when the time comes to assume the worst of this world, but I pray they find out what to do quickly."

The two disappeared into the same dark sky that Iori did, the other Rangers slowly dispersing from the building, and off into different directions. Cyril and Norihisa were the last to exit, looking around the outside, trying to see if Iori was anywhere.

"Maybe he left earlier than we thought," Carnivine's trainer figured, keeping his partner hoisted on his shoulder.

"Maybe his friend spirited him away," Cyril joked, Svetlo in his arms as they began to move back to the dormitory buildings, not seeing the ghost pokémon's trainer just above them over the gym.

With one leg propped up on the other, by the light of Makotsu's Will o Wisp, Iori was already reading his book, the image of his partner attacking so mercilessly still burned in his mind. The shouting in his mind had subsided, but a part of it still remained. It made his head twitch off to the side, staring lazily at the flame, the flickering almost hypnotizing him.

* * *

That same flickering was continuing on in another part of the city, the smaller fire underneath a glass beaker, a bubbling liquid confined to the glass walls. A pair of young hands reached down to the switch of the burner and flipped it off, the strange concoction still bubbling for a few minutes afterwards. After it'd begun to settle, a syringe was pulled out and placed in the substance, bringing some of it up into the body until it was about half full.

"How could you lose that video?" a female voice said from behind. "I was pretty proud of that work. Did you even get a chance to watch it to find this mystery kid you thought you saw?"

"Working right now," another female called out, a bit mockingly as she turned around, holding the needle in the low lighting.

"I'd prefer it if you turned on the lights," the first one brought up, a small wing in the dark bringing a small flicker in the air, lighting up some of what could be called an apothecary. "Out of curiosity, what're you gonna do with that?"

"Calm down," the younger girl said, reaching for a potted plant. "Sadly, this is one of my non-lethal cocktails for people. But to get a little scare out of certain people," she started, pushing the end of the point into its roots, unloading only a fraction of it into the soil. "It'll be just what I need," she said with a small sneer, the plant slowly withering away in seconds.

"To be clear, you don't use that kind of stuff on people, do you?" the older girl asked a bit nervous, another metal point directed at her, but not from the syringe. This time, a much longer, and broader metal instrument was being shown to her, the all too familiar sight of a samurai's sword.

"I have a very strict code," the other said, a small, amphibious figure approaching them, its cheeks inflating and deflating with every breath it took. "You only die if you're not useful to me." She turned back into the light with a large smile. "And I hope _he'll_ be useful."

* * *

Characters:

Norihisa Inaba and Michi the Carnivine: Wintre

Cyril Tesar and Svetlo the Luxio: Galaxykid

Iori Hasegawa and Makotsu the Duskull: NightFall-sensei

* * *

Pokémon Notes: So, for those of you who are new to my stories, this is something I do every now and again when I actually have something to talk about. If you want a better example of this, try checking out my other story HDD, the one with more than fifty chapters, where I actually talk a lot more about Japanese culture in my notes with some notes on the pokémon. But for now, I'm just going to be talking about the pokémon of the main characters introduced in this chapter and the last, which really just amounts to Duskull, so let's get started.

Duskull: The Requiem Pokémon, 2'07" (0.8m), 33.1lbs. (15kg). Duskull's pokédex entries always describe its ability to pass through solid objects in spite of their overall thickness and love of the chase. Entries that refer to this often end in saying that the pursuit will always end at sunrise, feeding into most superstition that ghosts and poltergeists are only active at night. The folktale of Duskull taking children away as warned by their mothers may lead to its origins being of any iteration of the boogeyman. Among other depictions, the one most associated with Japan is the Namahage, often depicted as having a devilish mask and holding a cleaver it uses to eat misbehaving children. Duskull may also be a reference to the Grim Reaper, often shown as a cloaked figure with a skeletal face. In Japanese, Duskull is called Yomawaru, which can have multiple meanings, the most obvious being either a reference to the words "night" and "bad/evil" or the "night watchman."

Carnivine: The Bug Catcher Pokémon, 4'07" (1.4m), 59.5lbs. (27kg). Carnivine's pokédex entries reference two things about it. The first being it uses a sweet smelling scent from its saliva to draw in prey and that it hangs from trees to blend itself as a normal plant with its mouth hanging open. From an obvious standpoint, Carnivine is based on the Venus flytrap. In nature, these plants secrete special nectar to attract insects that become trapped inside from the sticky substance, and then the folds of the plant clamp shut, dissolving the prey. In other uses, herbal remedies for Venus flytrap have been linked to treatment for HIV, skin cancer, and Crohn's disease, however most scientific evidence doesn't completely support these claims. Carnivine's name is a reference to its carnivorous nature and its vine-like appearance. In Japanese, its name Muskippa is a reference to its scientific name and either one translation for "hunger" or "eating."

Luxio: The Spark Pokémon, 2'11" (0.9m), 67.2lbs. (30.5kg). Almost all pokédex entries of Luxio reference its ability to focus electricity in its claws and that a light scratch can cause fainting in its victims. Others talk about its living habits in smaller groups. Returning to the fainting spells, to put this into perspective, the average Taser used by police generates 1200 volts of electricity when making contact with the skin or about .02 amps. According to the CDC, a single amp is enough to a kill a person with an unlikely chance of survival. Luxio itself is most likely based on several types of wild cats, primarily the lynx or lion. For Luxio itself, the lynx seems more likely because of their propensity to live in smaller groups or in solitude as opposed to a lion's pride. Its name is the same in English and in Japanese which comes from the Latin word for "light" and the Japanese word for "lion."

* * *

Chapter 1 Complete: Why do I feel more exhausted from writing the pokémon notes that the actual chapter. Anyway, well, looks like I managed to get something done with this. Normally, I'd have tried to get this to you by the day after I wrote the prologue, but at the same time, the characters and story style require me to take my time. Hopefully you guys don't mind. I would like to get at least one more chapter up before the New Year, and maybe I can get a couple in there if my creative genius starts to return. Anyway, on to the chapter! I find it interesting going back to introducing characters completely again since I haven't done it seriously since 2013 when I first started writing HDD, and to be honest, it's kind fun. We get Norihisa and Cyril in this, two Rangers that act like they're in a buddy cop movie. We also have the introduction of more battles and possibly a couple villains in this story. Anything else you want to talk about, put it in the review. Seriously, one of the people who sent a character for HDD and I have been in a 450+ PM conversation, so I'm not adverse to it. Also, just as a note to one person who still hasn't gotten their form back to me, I am still waiting, and I'm not trying to rush you, but you know who you are if you're reading this. Anyway, everyone, thanks for reading, and until we meet again, ja na.


	3. The Toxic Maiden

Hey guys, NightFall here with the next chapter of ISK. Wow, it actually felt kind weird to type it like that since I'm so used to typing out HDD. Anyway, seeing as I'd rather not lose momentum on a story you guys are starting to get into, here's what's coming next. So as a quick recap from last time, we have Iori staying for a few days at the Ranger's training facility in Fall City, and meeting two of their operatives Norihisa, a sarcastic wit who may have some trouble navigating social skills and Cyril who's probably a subscriber to "Puns Illustrated." We had a little battle between the three of them, and a small glimpse into the kind of story we're looking at and what can be expected to happen to the Ransei Descendants. To all of you who were amazing enough to deal with my insanity on the forms and even one person who I asked to make a character after one person dropped out, thank you and I hope to continue in this story for just as long as I have so far in HDD.

 **DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN POKÉMON, BECAUSE IF I DID, REMORAID WOULD NOT EVOLVE INTO AN OCTOPUS.**

* * *

Chapter 2: The Toxic Maiden

The female species certainly has been through more than its fair share of hardship in the history of our world. For many people, women have been considered a weaker or, in what they consider the gentler phrase, the fairer sex. Honestly, with how much people talk nowadays, it's a wonder anyone still thinks that. In many ways, women are just as strong as and even stronger than their male counterparts. Most people see this in the overall psychology of a woman. Biologically speaking, women have a greater sense of mental maturity and complexity, which often projects the image of somebody who is more emotional, and, especially during puberty, often prone to mood swings. However, more than that, the female of most species in nature is often larger, stronger, and orders of magnitude more deadly than the male. Despite all of this, women are still treated as weaker beings of the human race when in reality, they usually already run it. In most relationships between a man and a woman, the common idea is that the male becomes subservient, having to try much harder to please the woman emotionally than she does for him. It goes with an old saying, the only reason women are so complicated is that men are so simple.

* * *

Dateline: October 2, Fall City Ranger Training Facility, Fiore Region

It'd been a couple of days since the night battle for their training and Michi, Norihisa's Carnivine, was still noticeably injured, a bandaged wrapped around the ends of its tentacles. The memory of Makotsu's Will o Wisp was quite literally burned into its memory. What stayed in the trainer's mind, however, was the way that battle ended. From where he stood, it was all sort of sudden, and he wasn't sure what happened when Duskull stopped using Night Shade.

In front of him on a table in the library was an open book with an artist's rendering of the ghost type. It seemed strange for a while, though, because most of the world still knew little about certain elements like ghost, psychic, and dark, and yet Iori was able to battle with it so well. He must've known something about that particular classification that no one else could without having lived among it. Looking back to Michi's arms, and the white wrappings around them, he began wondering if there something more to that kind of power.

" _I've battled people like Cyril before, but in the end, I could always tell what I was fighting,"_ he said to himself, the ghastly face of his previous opponent staring back at him in the book. _"Svetlo's a pokémon that can generate electricity in the air, that's just a quantified fact, but what kind of power does a ghost type use? Shadows are just signs of an absence of light, they don't have their own power source that creates them. It's like a ghost pokémon's very existence shouldn't even exist."_

Letting out a sigh, Norihisa fell back against his chair, his neck hanging over the edge, facing the ceiling. He opened his eyes slowly and saw a few people looking back down at him, the two groups facing each other until Michi grabbed the frame of his seat and turned him around.

"Something I can help you with?" he asked.

"Um, we were wondering where your friend was," one of the other trainees said, looking around cautiously and then down to the open book, seeing the ghost type's picture.

"Cyril? Chances are you'll just have to follow the scent of stupid puns and the sound of knee-slapping," he answered, closing the book.

"No, not him, the other one," she reiterated. "The guy with the ghost pokémon. Where's he today?"

"Probably sleeping," Norihisa answered. "As far as I'm concerned, he sleeps during the day and wakes up in the evening. Lord knows how long he must be up at night. Cyril and I figured having that ghost type's messed with his sleep schedule so much, he's basically nocturnal. Why do you want to talk to him?"

"We just wanted to see if those rumors about him were actually true," another of them brought up.

"What rumors?" Carnivine's trainer asked, both pokémon and trainer looking at each other questioningly.

"Honestly, after a few people saw your battle the other night, a lot of people have been trying to figure out how he did it," they tried to explain. "Let's face it, a two-on-one battle like that really should've gone a different way even if he had more skill. So, a lot of people have been saying things like he's an ex-Scrapper that's doing this for reform, or maybe he's some kind of prodigy that the chairwoman's trying to keep from ending up like the last time."

" _Well, they're not wrong about the chairwoman being uncomfortably interested in him,"_ the Ranger said to himself. _"She had me and Cyril researching him about an hour after learning he even existed, but as for him being something like a Scrapper, I don't think so. I mean, he was fighting them on the tape, so allies? So, more than likely, not so much."_

"There's another rumor floating around that he has an actual weapon on him at all times," another trainee brought up, unaware their comrade was still listening.

" _Well, can't really deny that,"_ Norihisa's thoughts continued. _"But even then, we don't know a lot about that either. All we know is what the weapon is, and what it means for his heritage, but outside of that, he's never really talked to either of us. By the time he wakes up, I'm always getting something to eat, and he's out of the room by the time I try to go to sleep. I think the only time I've ever heard his voice is when he battled us the other day. And even then, he only talked after he was done drawing. Actually managed to get a look at that, and it's interesting he was able to get that decent a picture in the space of about fifteen or twenty minutes. I guess that's just what people mean when they say you have talent. Not that I'd know what it feels like."_

* * *

Looking up at the clock, Michi's trainer saw that it was getting to the mid-evening, knowing it wouldn't be long before Iori was awake, picking up his book and walking back to the shelves to put it away. Just as he was put the volume back in its place, another hand reached to the same level, pulling another book from the case, and walked back towards one of the tables strewn about the library. At the sight of the ghostly trail created by Makotsu, Norihisa tried to reach out to Iori, just barely missing. The group from earlier also saw him approaching from the corridor, immediately trying to follow him.

Just after he sat down, and opened one of the books in front of him, he lowered the cover and saw the gathering staring back at him. At first, he said nothing, and angled his head back down to the text, but lifted it again immediately after to see one of the pokémon a Ranger kept. It was a poison pokémon, covered in shaggy fur, known for its horrible stench, forcing Iori to squint before placing his glasses back over his eyes.

"No moving," he told the poison and dark mix Stunky, reaching into his bag and pulling out his sketchbook, opening to a fresh page just behind Cyril's Svetlo. The poison pokémon froze in place, feeling his studying gaze all over it, beginning to draw out its body. "So, what did you all want to ask me?" he asked, some of them flinching, noticing he never broke concentration from his work.

"U-Um, nice weather today, isn't it?" one of them asked pathetically, Norihisa almost bursting into full laughter, Michi patting his back to keep him choking.

"It's cool," the younger trainer answered, the others looking at him confused. "I like cool weather. It helps me relax, to focus on things other than if I'm going to melt in the summer heat. I'd like it to be winter all the time, though. The chill it sends to my spine reminds me over and over that I'm still alive."

" _He certainly went off on that one,"_ Norihisa noticed, both him and Michi having a sarcastic smirk on their faces. _"Next?"_

"Are you a Scrapper?" another asked, almost everyone in the library freezing in place.

"No," Iori answered, looking back over at Stunky, the poison type too afraid to move, especially with Makotsu watching it, despite its type advantage over it. "I try to remain neutral on most political debates. Besides, I'm an outsider to this country, so I choose not to get too involved in your affairs."

"Why's the chairwoman taking so much interest in you?" a third brought up.

"In my opinion?" the trainer responded. "Because I'm different from what she normally sees, I'd say. It's the same reason you all want to know more about me, but are too afraid to ask me outright," he explained, his eye shifting to Norihisa for a fraction of a second, and then back to his drawing. "Because I'm probably different for not having a clear stance on your conflict, you want to know more about me for not having that stance. But also, you see me and think for that one reason, I'm not the same as you."

"Where did you train?" Norihisa suddenly said from the back, the group parting to stay out of between the two. "You said you've been training to fight for eight years, but I don't know any place in this country or any other that would condone that high-level of pokémon combat for someone so young."

"I wasn't taught in a school like you were," Iori started. "At first, it felt like they were trying to make us into soldiers," he narrated, closing his eyes, dropping his sketchbook on the table, the others amazed at the amount of detail he was able to cram into that small amount of time. "I was never taught how to read in any other language than my native, but only to read the movements of my opponents when lock in a battle that could be the difference between life and death. When I was given Makotsu, I was left alone with him to fight against him, just to show me the difference between people and pokémon. And I learned that they are more powerful than you or I. We are merely their guides, and they true power."

"Your school sounds much more interesting than what I went through," Carnivine's trainer commented, the silence beginning to overtake the room becoming much too awkward for anyone else to bear.

"Can we see your drawings?" a fourth student from the group chimed in, Iori instantly turning with a wide-eyed expression a bit shocked at the question.

"W-What?" he asked, the others noticing a small red tint on his face. "Why do you want to look at them?"

He almost clutched his book, only for Michi to wrap its vine around the pages and deposit it into Norihisa's arms. As he opened the first couple of pages, the others looked inside of it amazed at the amount of detail and the variety of pokémon he'd seen. Smudge marks were over just about every page, mostly over the oldest, the grass pokémon's partner looking at the very first page, looking up at Makotsu, seeing it was the very first portrait recorded in this collection.

Looking down at him, the others noticed Iori trying to find something to say, but just couldn't, the thought of anyone looking through his drawings made him violated in some way. Before he could bring a sound up to his mouth, he heard the closed book being placed on the table in front of him, Norihisa grinning as he turned around, and disappeared from the library.

* * *

As the older trainer made it outside, Michi looked at him floating by his side, the smile on his face from before still confident as he made his way back to his apartment.

"I don't need to know anything else about him," he said to his partner, the grass pokémon looking back at him confused. "I don't know why, but I can't just bring myself to hate someone who would think of their own pokémon in that way," he explained, holding out his hand, Michi taking them in its tentacles. "Let's get you fixed up."

As the pair left, the image of Duskull's portrait was still in his memory, but with a small title underneath only he could see from the angle he was holding it at. At the very bottom page, showing that ghastly and demonic figure were the words "Makotsu-My First Friend". He walked back into the distance, away from the rest of the lit world, now in almost complete darkness. He was almost completely relaxed, and looked off to the side, noticing a small avian figure off in the distance.

Out of instinct, he reached into a backpack and pulled a pair of binoculars, trying to bring the pokémon into focus, its blazing red feathers and arrow-like tail identifying it as a pokémon not normally seen in this part of the world. A Fletchinder, but why was a pokémon like that in the training facility? Could it have been a trainee's? No, it would've stood out by this time in the year. The most likely situation would be if it were owned by someone outside of the facility.

"Let's look into it," he said to Carnivine, the grass type agreeing, floating ahead to meet up with the flying type, Norihisa keeping it in his sights, never looking outside of the binoculars.

As the fire and flying type took a perch on one of the building tops, Michi eventually reached the same point, cautiously eyeing it, making sure it didn't make any sudden movements. Only a few feet from each other, Fletchinder turned its head and saw Carnivine, digging its beak through some of its feathers to clean them, and then turn back to facing the front. From Michi's point of view, there wasn't anything too sinister about all of this.

Seeing this from the ground as well, Norihisa didn't find anything dangerous about the pokémon. Maybe there wasn't anything to be nervous about, so he pulled the binoculars away, and looked back forward at some of the other buildings. It was then he noticed a single light in the windows, flashing in different parts. Shifting his gaze from the pokémon and the lights in a supposedly locked area, the Ranger immediately took off for the site, hoping whatever was going on was just in his imagination.

* * *

Reaching the older structure, Norihisa reached for the doorknob, knowing any other time it'd have to be locked. However, given the situation, he confidently turned it receiving no resistance, and walked in.

" _What was this building even used for, again?"_ he wondered, searching through it, and finding it really was just empty. _"If anyone is in here for something, it's probably not worth the trouble. Then again, Scrappers could find worth in just about anything."_

As he began climbing the staircase at the end of the hallway, he kept his gaze one foot in front of what he'd normally, to make sure nothing was coming at him. As he got higher up, passing some old offices and desks, Norihisa realized this was probably the old administration building, where the chairmen would do the legal and paperwork. The light from before still hadn't been found, though, and he was starting to wonder more and more if this really was all just his head playing games with him.

Finding a window, the Ranger peered outside, looking through his binoculars again to find the bird pokémon, and saw it and Michi were still perched on the rooftop. The grass type was vigilant in watching this new arrival, but the other seemed less than interested in him. For the most part, it was silent, nobody was around, and honestly, Norihisa was conceding to the idea there was really nothing going on.

He decided to look up through the upper floors just to indulge his own delusions, and began climbing the next few flights of stairs, each one with a similar result; empty desks, boxes of old supplies, flashing lights from above, silent surroundings, and…flashing lights from above? Latching onto that sight, the Ranger quickly reached the next stairwell, quickly leaping over entire steps on the tip of his toe so as not to alert anyone to his presence.

Now that he was pretty much on the top floor, the grass pokémon's trainer looked around, and saw the light flashing once more, quickly getting closer to it. However, as he crept nearer to it, he noticed it seemed to stay at the same level as it moved across the room. If it were a person actually carrying it, the light would be moving in a more organic motion, matching the intruder's gait, having quicker movements. Turning the corner, to his expectation, a flashlight was pointed toward the window, but not necessarily by someone, rather something.

It was kind of like a sprinkler, moving back and forth at a steady pace with the small light attached to the top. It was a crude little device, but effective if it was meant to lure him up here. Grabbing the rotating thing, Norihisa took the flashlight and began looking around the room, figuring the person who set it up may still be around. He had the light, so technically he had the advantage in finding whoever it was. He kept turning, to make sure no one was trying to sneak up on him. At first, he thought they must've left, but something about his breathing seemed off. The way his breath came out of his lungs just started speaking to him, like there was another in the room, matching his inhale and exhale to mask their presence.

Slowly, the Ranger took the flashlight and looked back down at it, and something came to him from a couple nights ago, when he and Cyril were battling Iori. Something that kid said that made him silently reach in front of him to one of the desks, and prepare to pull something off of it.

 _"Haven't you heard it's always darkest beneath the lamp?"_ Iori's voice echoed, Norihisa immediately spinning around and placing a small metal conduit in front of him in defense. In that same second, somebody's arm came into contact, their metal gauntlet gleaming in the low light. The Ranger flipped the light onto them, a young woman's face staring at him only an inch or two shorter than where he stood.

The two separated, and Norihisa moved to the wall, flipping on the lights, temporarily blinding both him and his attempted assailant. As both of their eyes adjusted, Norihisa looked upon this young girl, just about the same age as him, her hand covered by the metallic glove with what looked like electrical nodes on the fingertips. Without hearing a word from her, Norihisa knew what kind of person he was facing down: a Scrapper.

This person, as previously stated, standing only a couple inches shorter than the Ranger, boasted an average figured body, rather slim, like most of the Scrappers he'd engaged in battle. Her hair, similar to Norihisa's, was also a reddish tone, cut shorter than most girls, reaching the upper half of the neck, the bangs in the front covering the left of her sky blue eyes. Along her ears were two piercings apiece, gleaming in the light now identifying them both, and along her right arm was a giant scar, leading all the way up to her shoulder had it been visible. For her wardrobe, he sore a rather loose-looking crimson shirt that only covered half her arm, revealing the gash, a pair of jeans faded in several places, a satchel attached to the side of her waist, and a pair of brown shoes covering up her ankles.

"I don't suppose you're going to go quietly?" Norihisa questioned, the Scrapper rushing at him with the gauntlet quickly lighting up with small burst of electricity. As she tried to grip his shoulder, the Ranger grabbed the metal rod, and tried smacking away the weapon, the electricity catching it, a small jolt coursing through his system.

"This is the only thing you Rangers are good for," the young girl hissed, the electrified pipe making it difficult for her victim to let go. "You make excellent guinea pigs for these toys." Slowly, she released the pipe, and Norihisa found he couldn't let go for a solid minute from the pain. "At least you have more endurance than you look. It'll make it all the more enjoyable when you go down."

"You rigged up this trap just to beat up a random Ranger?" the male trainer questioned, the girl shrugging her shoulders, almost chuckling at the pain the earlier attack caused him. "Geez, you Scrappers make no sense in what you do."

"Ignorant Rangers like you are my favorite to pound to a bloody pulp," the other taunted, taking something out of her pocket, Norihisa trying to stay on guard. "Relax, this isn't for you. But it might as well hurt just as much," she said, showing off a small whistle and moving to the window, a single touch from the gauntlet causing much of the glass to shatter.

"What're you planning to do with that?" Norihisa started, trying to sound confident in between his labored breathing. "Call over a battalion of Pidgey to peck me to death?"

"The only reason I'm letting you make those stupid comments is so I can pay you back for each in pain," she said, forming a fist in her glove. Slowly, she let out a slow breath into the body of the instrument, what sounded like a sharp bird's cry. "Yuuki will keep your Carnivine company so we aren't interrupted."

"Oh? I didn't know you were so interested," the Ranger joked, regaining some of his strength, but to no avail as the girl pushed back to the ground with her foot.

"Try not to sound so confident when it's clear you aren't," she said disdainfully. "It's disgusting."

"Got it," Norihisa said, a bit pained as the Scrapper walked around him and pulled out his wallet, taking a look inside.

"Norihisa Inaba," she read. "Pretty young to be a fully-fledged Ranger, don't you think?"

"I could say the same to a girl my own age making something like that," the other returned, turning to the window to see what was happening, and saw Fletchinder flapping its wings and sending out embers against Michi. "Also to have a pokémon that well trained without formal instruction."

"You learn things your way, I'll learn them mine," the Scrapper shot back.

Looking back into the open space outside, Norihisa could see his partner fighting against the flying and fire pokémon this girl referred to as Yuuki. The biggest problem with that battle was the fact both Yuuki's fire and flying attributes were able to defeat Michi's grass. So as the movements of its wings continued tossing more small flames at Carnivine, the Ranger's pokémon was constantly being pushed back while still in midair. Without another warning, Norihisa turned back and just narrowly dodged another punch from the Scrapper's gauntlet.

The impact it made with the wooden desk almost sounded like an explosion, Norihisa looking down at it to see most of the material was charred. His first instinct was to keep dodging, and hopefully tire her out so he could mount his own counterattack, but was amazed at her rate of speed. As she tried to deliver a swift kick to his gut, he could see there was nothing on her legs to augment her running ability, it was all just her. With another strike of her leg from behind, the Ranger was forced forward, almost onto the ground, and looked back at his assailant. The smile forming on her face told him she was enjoying this, almost too much. But at the same time, he knew how to at least get some advantage back.

As he stood back up, he began to move to the broken window, touching his hand on the sill lightly so as not to cut himself on the glass. Without even thinking, the Scrapper rushed forward and held out her open hand, ready to grip onto him when suddenly, the grass trainer just jumped right out into the open air. Surprised by this the girl almost rammed into the wall, seeing Norihisa attached to a nearby tree, expertly climbing down until he was back on the street. At first, she was frustrated he got away so easily, but as she saw him running back to the main building, a smile grew across her face, pulling out the whistle again, giving a loud breath like a siren through the air.

* * *

Reacting to it immediately, Yuuki sneered and looked like it was about to fly away from Michi. About to let down its guard, figuring the flying type was just taunting it all this time, Carnivine was suddenly met by a blazing figure rushing towards it at tremendous speed. Fletchinder's body was radiating heat hotter and faster than ever before, and bashed directly into the grass pokémon, pushing it down even further towards the ground. After impacting like a meteor, Yuuki flew away from the wreckage, breaking out of its Flame Charge attack, looking down and expecting to see nothing but scorched remains.

However, as the smoke cleared, there seemed to be a tad more green than the flying type was anticipating, much of Carnivine's body now looking as though strapped to the ground, connected by numerous roots. The extensions were immediately breaking through the concrete, and into the soil underneath, the grass pokémon's body bathed in an intense green light. Some of the burns covering its tentacles were starting to heal almost instantly, Fletchinder quick diving back towards it, opening its beak to release small bursts of fire.

Glaring straight on without fear, though, Michi took in a deep breath, energy gathering in its core muscles. The Ember attacks began striking its body, but its Stockpile tactic was also starting to bulk up its own defenses. The grass type's entire body began to pulsate, looking as though it were swallowing nothing but the air around it, even more of its wounds healing up, now having almost no scratches on it whatsoever. Even the bandages it was using after its battle with Duskull seemed unnecessary, its tentacles now completely free, and ready for battle.

The roots of its Ingrain snapped off and Carnivine took off quickly towards its fiery opponent. Without needing to think too hard about it, Yuuki took off into the sky, making a giant loop in the air before pointing its beak directly down at the grass type. Seeing through it, though, Michi disappeared the exact moment the flying attack would have connected and quickly slapped it from behind with its arm, sending it right to the ground. After its recovery, Michi seemed more than ready to continue the fight, giving a confident grin on its wide face and motioning for Yuuki to make the first move. The flying type took the challenge and the two immediately rocketed towards each other with attacks already prepared.

* * *

Back down on the ground, towards the library, Iori was still at the table from before, now content in reading his book, most of the others having left given the late hour that was now approaching. For him, he was just now completely awake, Makotsu floating about the shelves to try and find more books for its partner's research. For most, the silence would've been deafening after a while, and even the mysterious trainer could admit it was almost too quiet, even if it was just getting to closing time. He'd have to be out by ten that night, which only gave him another hour, and with the sound of someone's footsteps drawing closer, he knew he wasn't going to get much reading done.

Looking up, his eyes feel on the chairwoman Laura, the dull hued blonde staring back at him with a smile, and the longer hand on the clock made a resounding click. The two were now sitting across from each other, Iori not looking up much from his book, only the top of glasses visible to the older woman.

"I take it you've been comfortable here?" she asked.

"I haven't found much to complain about, if that's what you're concerned with," he answered, turning to the next page, slowly turning his eyes to her, noticing the mixed look she was giving him. "Do you honestly think I haven't noticed you trying to get me onto your side exclusively?"

"Depends on how you interpret things," she responded.

"You put me in a room with somebody already living in it to build rapport with the Rangers, and then you treat me as a specialist by having me battle against two of them," Iori listed. "If you're not trying to sway my opinion, then I'd assume you're crazy."

"Well, I can't say you're wrong," the chairwoman admitted. "But I don't think I was ever trying to hide it. I made you the offer to become a Ranger only ten minutes after meeting you. Yeah, I want you to be on our side because you seem pretty much invincible against us mere mortals."

"And what do you mean by 'mortal'?" the younger of the two asked.

"You said you were looking for clues about the location of the Ransei Region, and that it was the land of your ancestors," Laura recalled, looking down at the book, its text scribbled in Iori's foreign language. "There's no one in this world with coherent thought that hasn't heard those stories. We were told it was a land of magic and warlords who were able to empower their own partners in battle to further their causes. That with a simple focusing of their mind, they could give their pokémon the strength to move on."

"Those are just old stories," Iori claimed, Makotsu above him staring down at her intently. "Whether or not the residents of Ransei could influence a pokémon's power with their chi or whatever is irrelevant to my goal. I just want to find proof that it once existed. And not just in the ancient weapons or tools that people find on wrecked ships and vessels, I want to see the very land it was built upon. Their magic is none of my concern."

"I see," the older one said. _"Although I only ever said magic, why change the word to chi?"_

"Is there something else you wanted to talk to me about?" the trainer asked.

"Not really, it's like you said, just trying to build up a rapport so you'll agree to be more sympathetic to us," the chairwoman said as though mocking him. "We all do what we have to, kid."

"I already said if I was able to help somebody I would," Iori started, putting his book down, completely facing the woman. "And that's regardless of allegiances. And for the record, I'm far from invincible."

"You'll have to forgive me for not exactly following that," Laura returned. "After seeing you successfully battle two of my operatives without so much as a nick on that spirit's face, I find it hard to believe there are many people who can best you in combat."

"Can I ask you something?" the younger one started, the woman sitting back in her seat to hear what he had to say. "How do you defeat a dragon pokémon? For many people, the answer is simply to use ice or a fairy. But I was always taught that the worst battle to be faced in is one against a pokémon of the same element. Dragons and ghosts fall into this the worst because they are both strong against and weak to their own power. A dragon has a greater capacity to battle well against an ice type because they're prepared to compensate for that weakness. But when battling another dragon, using its own power can defeat it, but the other will think to do the same."

"Uh-huh, so what's your point?" the chairwoman said, hoping to get this to move along a bit faster.

"In the same way that a dragon can defeat itself and be its worst enemy, the only reason I seem stronger is because there is a difference between me and your trainees," Iori explained. "And because of that difference, I can easily see in the battle where the better target areas are. It's similar to how you probably combat Scrappers. You study their movements and already know how to fight them. When somebody has had less training and of a different kind, it becomes easy to determine how to fight back."

"But if somebody who had that same training and for a similar amount of time were to fight you," Laura led him into.

"You'd be able to see all of my weaknesses lay bear at my feet," he said with a small grin. "If you wish to use me as a special soldier in your war, keep in mind that once the other side has someone similar to me, the situation on both sides would become quite grim."

"We won't let those Scrappers win," the chairwoman said in a low voice. "You don't know what those people are capable of. And if you knew what was good for you, you wouldn't try to make them into misunderstood people."

"Why are you so quick to demonize them? Are these people really so simplistic as to be placed in good and evil?" he asked.

"Because sadly, there is good and evil in the world," the older of them answered. "People will tell you that sometimes there are circumstances that keep people from choosing what's right, and that there is no good and evil and merely shades of gray in between. But even in times when people should be content, they choose this path of the wrong side of the law, and we give them opportunity. Not every bad guy is a misunderstood innocent, and sometimes people choose to be evil just for the sake of being evil. I wish the world was like the one you want to live in, where people are either good or have and absence of it, but sometimes, they're just bad."

With that, the chairwoman left the library, Iori left there alone to contemplate what she said. Was he being naïve? In the world he lived in, was there really such a thing as doing something without reason or thought? It just didn't seem possible.

* * *

As he walked out of the library, the clock striking ten immediately, Makotsu floated out in front of him, a strange glare in its pulsating red eye. Having the same feeling his partner was, Iori stopped his stride and two pokémon flew past him in a mix of red and green. Both stuck their heads out in the open to get a better look, recognizing the flora body of Norihisa's partner, calmly walking in the same direction.

By now, the two were off in the far distance, almost out of his range of vision without his glasses, but he could see they seemed about evenly matched. For as fast as the red blur was, the fuzzy green image that was Michi had more destructive force leaving little room for the other to make a definitive move. Finally conceding and putting his spectacles back on, he looked intently at the red pokémon and started looking through his sketchbook. The avian form of Fletchinder was one he seemed to remember, and sure enough, one of the pages including the winged pokémon.

"What do you think? Simple sparring, perhaps," Iori tried to pass off, Makotsu just shifting its single eye from one side of its voided face to the other, giving him an expectant look. "Yeah, it's never going to be simple, is it?"

From behind, the young trainer flipped the shaft of his weapon around in front of him, making sure to stay on guard as he approached the ensuing battle. He got closer, looking back to his drawing, the strong wing beats of Yuuki spreading some of its burning embers to Michi, but the grass type had gotten wise to them, able to snake around them, slapping Fletchinder across its body with an expert Feint Attack.

Deciding not to just immediately step in, Iori and Makotsu huddled in one of the corners of the buildings around them, just watching the spectacle, a harsh panting sound coming from the side. Turning his head, the mysterious trainer saw Michi's partner almost collapse in front of him, falling to his hands and knees after reaching them. He looked as though he were trying to say something, Iori waiting as the older of the two kept breathing heavily, stopping for a second to spit it out, but then immediately had to refill his lungs before they burst.

"I'll wait," Iori said calmly, Norihisa just giving him a harsh glare.

"S-Scrapper…on her way…electric weapon…don't touch…," he managed to say in between breaths, the non-Ranger looking back to his partner, the ghost type shrugging its shoulders.

"One more time?" he asked, the angry stare coming back from his temporary roommate. "All I got from that was that there's a Scrapper with an electrified weapon that I'm not supposed to touch on her way, or was that all you said?"

Norihisa immediately fell onto his back, keeping his head facing the side, hearing rapidly approaching footsteps. The more coherent trainer heard him give a giant groan, and then watched as he stood up, looking around him for some kind of defense. Behind him, both pokémon continued battling, seeming uninterested in what was going on around them. Slowly from the shadows, the girl from before appeared, almost as out of breath as her victim, pounding her gloved fist into the wall next to her, Iori surprised by the electric shock coming from them, able to char even some of the bricks.

"I'm going to guess she has something to do with what you were talking about," he assumed.

"You think?!" the Ranger angrily questioned, the girl about to lunge forward, Norihisa ready to take her on, but then noticed Iori no longer standing next to him.

In the same movement, he was in front of the girl, holding her arm back with the clubbed end of his weapon's covering. With one push, the girl was sent back a few feet, looking back up surprised at how strong he was despite how thin his body was.

" _So he's the one,"_ she said to herself, relaxing her standing position, looking back over at Iori. "So who're you supposed to be, some kind of ninja?"

"I try not to associate myself with that kind of person," Iori started. "I was once training to become something of a samurai, so please give me proper respect for my efforts."

"Fine by me, samurai," the Scrapper said. "So what's your name?"

"In battle, it's customary to introduce yourself first," the youngest of them answered, the girl giving him an expectant look. "My name's Iori Hasegawa, descendant of the Ransei Region."

"Huh," the girl said, stretching her back over her free arm. "You can just call me Kameyo. I'm Kameyo Ine, one of the strongest Scrappers this side of the country. And you, samurai, just made things so much easier for me."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Iori asked, holding his weapon at the ready.

"Because somebody hired me to find you," Kameyo started, clenching her gloved fist with lightning sparking out from the sides. "And now my job's done; time for some pleasure over business."

"Who's looking for me?" the young man questioned. "And why battle against an uninvolved person in the first place?"

"It's fun to mess with Rangers," the girl said, quickly trying to rush at Norihisa, Iori getting back in between them, Carnivine losing its focus after seeing the state its trainer was in. Just as Yuuki was about to take the opportunity, Makotsu got in between in them just as its trainer did. "I'm really not supposed to hurt you, but I don't think a few marks will change the overall quality."

"Who's looking for me?!" Iori shouted angrily, knowing Kameyo was just dodging the question. The Scrapper just smirked as Makotsu was launched directly in front of its partner, a low croaking sound just behind him.

"That would be me," a young, feminine voice said, stepping out of the shadows, smiling at her opponent from the back.

Before he even had the chance to turn around, Iori could see the end of a long scabbard placed across the side of his face. From Norihisa's perspective, it was even faster than his friend could move; this girl's smile still on her face as she began to walk around him so he could face her.

Honestly, she was a bit short, almost half a foot shorter than Iori from where he stood, but the grin decorating her expression was confident in everything she was doing. Just by looking at her, neither could believe she could move that quickly, her body matching her height, built similarly to Iori's. Her hair was a light shade of brown, reaching down to her shoulders and to slightly higher than her emerald colored eyes. The confidence brimming in them, though, was more than obvious as Iori felt he could barely move while looking at her. Even the way she dressed was similar to Norihisa's companion, a long sleeved black shirt with a pair of jeans directly below and a pair of black trainer shoes.

"My name is Madoka Sakurai," the girl said in introduction. "Descendant of the Ransei Region," she finished with a sneer, placing the wooden sheath against Iori's cheek. "I expected you to be taller, Hasegawa-kun," she started trailing off in a foreign tongue, both the Scrapper and Ranger following very little of what she was saying.

"My apologies if I disappoint you, Sakurai-san" Iori returned in the same language. "But I find very few people who introduce themselves in such a way," he started, looking over to the amphibious pokémon still mostly cast in shadow.

"I take pride in my lineage just as you do," Madoka countered haughtily. "And given the way you've been walking about in the city, you have no trouble in admitting to it as well. I've heard you even broadcasted your intention to the higher-ups in this facility. Do you think it to be wise to let others know the legitimacy of our homeland?"

"Ransei's stories are known to many, and it causes others no harm in knowing my intentions," the naginata wielder said, beginning to walk away from the scabbard of the girl's katana. As he began to walk around her just as she did, he noticed a few symbols carved into sheath: "Autumn's Wind."

"I don't make it a point to fight carelessly," Madoka informed, pulling at the middle of her weapon's covering, Iori pointing his down and thrusting it quickly to send it down to the asphalt.

"Then why are you bearing your weapon?" Iori questioned, holding the blade of his weapon outwards.

"I could ask something similar of you," the female warrior said, turning her gaze back to Kameyo. "You're job is finished here," she suddenly brought up, the Scrapper girl looking at her confused. "Don't worry, we will return, and you can do whatever you want to hurt these Rangers. Tonight, I just want to feel this one out."

"Whatever," Kameyo said disdainfully, giving a quick whistle as Yuuki returned to her shoulder, taking off the metal glove, carrying it under her shoulder as she glared back at Norihisa, the Ranger finally having regained his strength. "I'm coming back for you, weakling."

"I'll save the date," he returned, turning back to Madoka after she was now alone. "Do you honestly expect me to stand by and just watch you two fight with real weapons? I'm going to have to call this in," he said, about to walk away, feeling a tap on his shoulder.

As he turned around, Madoka was staring back at him with a small pixie smile, holding her hand, and giving it a quick blow, powder immediately going into his face. Michi quickly leaped into action angrily, snapping its jaws at the young girl, holding the now unconscious Norihisa in its arms.

"Venomoth spores," the girl informed. "He'll be fine. A few hours of sleep and he'll feel quite energetic afterwards," she said with an evil smirk, Michi quickly lunging at her with its giant maw, a sudden jab to the underside of its mouth locking it shut for several seconds before it fell straight to the ground. "Dokusei, you know we have to be kinder to those with less power," she said mockingly, both Norihisa and Michi on the ground unable to get up as the poison frog from before landed on the ground in front of Iori. "Meet my link, the Croagunk Dokusei."

"Makotsu," Iori called, the ghost type wearily floating back up to his shoulder level, a small twitch noticeable in Madoka's eye.

* * *

Without warning, Dokusei immediately jumped into the air, its arm lined with pure dark energy, swatting Duskull away in the same second it got back up, the girl's expression calming as she kept her weapon mostly sheathed. Iori decided to make the first move, making a wide swing all the way around, Croagunk ducking just under it before jumping back at the ghost type, Madoka quickly taking out her own blade, and catching it within a fraction of a second.

"Drawing techniques," Iori recognized, his opponent still smirking as she pushed him away, and made a quick upward slash.

Just like she did, the long shaft swung back around, and caught the sword's shear, sending it over Iori's head, and up against a nearby tree. Instead of getting stuck, though, the metal sliced straight through it, the few branches falling a few seconds afterwards. The two suddenly exploded into a flurry of strikes, the sparks flying from each impact, and neither blade staying too far away from its target.

After making a wide step, Iori saw Croagunk pass underneath its feet, Makotsu following directly after him, waiting until it was past Madoka before releasing a large ring of small fireballs. Once again, the same twitch in the girl's eye was present, Dokusei angrily swiping its darkened arm at the small spirit. Taking the opportunity, Iori made a quick stab with the blunt end of his weapon's shaft, Madoka snapping out of her trance early enough to merely stop it with the palm of her hand. The impact felt was enormous on both ends, but neither seemed willing to yield.

As she pushed him back, Duskull's trainer swung his weapon in the same arch she threw it in, forcing her to put up her sword in defense, the two weapons now tightly locked in place. With both blades placed against the other's guard just above the hilt or shaft, Iori and Madoka were both staring at each other intently, the shorter of them making the first smirk.

"Dokusei!" she called, Croagunk immediately shifting its focus from the ghost type, and immediately jumped into the air, now directly behind the naginata user. "Poison Sting!"

Suddenly, a battalion of toxic spears were thrown from Dokusei's mouth, Iori having to turn around to block what few he could, a couple jabbing into his shoulder. The pain was almost immediate, a sudden push from behind forcing them out, not having been in long enough to cause any blood loss. Turning his head to the back, Makotsu was already right behind his shoulder, a trail of shadows disappearing into the further darkness after ramming into his own partner.

"It seems to care about you," Madoka noted, all four of them now within the same ten feet of each other. "How does an undead creature like that actually manage to show emotions for another?" she wondered, walking around the two of them, standing next to her partner, Croagunk almost looking out of breath while staring at the ghost type.

"I don't know why he bothers with me," Iori admitted, a small smile on his face. "But after a while, friends stop sweating the small stuff," he said, the young woman looking confused before smirking, a small chuckle in her voice.

"I guess that makes sense," she agreed. "Dokusei," she started. "Let's stop messing around," she said with an evil sneer, taking a small paper ball, and throwing it down to the ground, an explosion of smoke all around the two trainers and their pokémon.

Immediately, Makotsu pushed at Iori with its Ominous Wind attack, taking him out of the smokescreen before he could breathe any of it in. Now outside of the festering cloud, the young man took a defensive stance, waiting for something to happen, noticing a stirring in the closer part of the mist. Suddenly, Dokusei burst out, thrusting its pointed fingers towards him, Iori able to block it with the shaft of his weapon. Now connected to the wooden rod, the poison and fighting mix jumped up the entire length, weighing down one side of the blade, able to stand on the flat edge, staring directly at Iori.

There was a sneer on its face, despite it not doing anything, motioning to the cloud in front of them both, Madoka thrusting her blade forward. Iori was barely able to dodge, able to bend his back forward enough to dodge past the stabbing technique, the katana instead driving all the way through another of the trees. For a moment, all anyone could see were the red and brown wrappings on the hilt, but with a single sideways cut, the young woman was able to free it, stopping the slash just in front of Iori's eyes.

In that second, his breath seemed to leave, his lungs almost immediately deflating, and the look on Madoka's face made it clear she knew his surprise by all of this. The flat edge of the sword started to touch his cheek, the young girl chuckling at Iori's reaction to it all.

"And to think I was so excited to meet you, too," she said. "I thought that since you were like me, you'd put up a better fight, maybe even make me bleed. But it's clear that you just can't measure up to somebody like me. I heard about how long you said you trained in combat. Eight years? Do you think something like that is enough to make you stronger than me? You'd have had to condition your body long before even learning how to use a weapon to have a prayer of beating me this way. But there's something else you lack," she figured, her breath cold like the steel of her blade. "Are you afraid to use your own power? Do you hate what you inherited? Or rather _who_ you inherited it from?"

As she taunted him, the smokescreen started to whip and twirl about in a blackened wind, Makotsu's Ominous Wind blowing it straight up into the sky, seeing the position the two fighters were now in. Quickly, the ghost type started racing towards them, Madoka and Dokusei both seeing it coming out of the corner of their eye.

"How about a demonstration of what you could be?" she suggested, Croagunk leaping from his blade into the same path as Duskull. Slowly, Madoka placed her hand in front of her face, turning it perpendicular, and folding all but her index and middle finger inward. She looked like she was focusing on something, taking in a deep breath, the exhale sending a chill up each pokémon's spine. _"Konshin!"_ she shouted in her mind, Croagunk looking like it'd been attacked from behind before falling over limp.

Looking back at the poison type, Iori could see its entire body radiating in a red light, waves of it floating off of it like a spiritual energy. Makotsu was about ready to attack, increasing the speed it moved in, Dokusei pulling back its fist, covering it in a darkened aura. For one second, everything fell silent around the poisonous frog, until it felt like a drop of water fell in its own mind, and it ran forward like it'd been shot by a cannon. The ground where it took off from had been cracked at the surface, and once it thrust its fist forward, Makotsu was sent straight up into the air, soaring higher than it ever could by itself.

Croagunk continued moving without any resistance in the air, eventually reaching a giant boulder towards their end of their line of sight. At first, it seemed like the stone was enough to stop it, Dokusei relaxing its punch and started to walk back to its partner. With one look back at the stone, the fighting type spat out a single Poison Sting strike, embedding into the rock, and causing it to fall on two sides, perfectly cleaved in half.

Looking at it seemed impossible. It was much more powerful than when Iori first used a small sampling of any kind of power, and even then, he only influenced the pokémon's focus. This was completely augmenting the power a pokémon could force out. But while seeing it, a small sting in was felt, Madoka leaning over to whisper something in his ear, and then pulling the sword away with only the tip stuck into his back. A small spot of blood began to form behind him as the young girl waved to him, sheathing her blade, and then disappearing before anyone else came out.

Just as she did, Laura and Cecelia were coming back from somewhere, seeing the red stained ground in front of them and Iori trying to walk away with the injured Duskull in his arms. Immediately, they ran after him, trying to pull him away, only for the shock of everything to make him lose consciousness. The two adults looked at each other, noticing Norihisa in the background, also having been taken out of commission. They looked out into the night, trying to get some sense of what was going on, quickly taking both of them to an infirmary wing, unaware that the two assailants were watching from the rooftop closest to them.

"So, are we done with him?" Kameyo asked, leaning against Madoka's shoulder as she just gave a light chuckle.

"I don't think I'm ever going to be completely done with him," she said, Dokusei at her feet, still winded from the battle. "I teased him a little, and he got all riled up, so he'll be fun to fight one more time. But if we just leave him alone now, he'll never get any stronger, that's why I gave him a little present," she said, showing off the tip of her sword, a mixture of Iori's blood and a strange chemical smeared on it. "It won't kill him, but he'll definitely remember me for it."

"Just let me have a crack at that Ranger, and I'll do anything you say, shrimp," the older girl said, Yuuki giving an affirming chirp before the group set back out.

* * *

The next morning, the training facility's chairwoman was looking out the scenery of where she resided over. With trainees walking around content, unaware of what happened last night, that there was an attack made on two people, and the details of which were still unknown, Laura collapsed in her chair, rubbing her temple.

Turning around in her seat, so she was now facing the large door leading to her quarters just as somebody walked in, his relaxed expression helping to ease her a bit as the playful bouncing of Luxio at his feet seemed to bring a solemn grin to her face.

"You wanted to see me, ma'am," Cyril said, the chairwoman nodding.

"Officer Tesar, last night there was an attack on campus grounds, and one of our own was hurt plus one civilian," she explained. "I want you to investigate it privately, as in don't let the others know. This was probably an isolated incident, and I don't want people thinking that we can't do our jobs when clearly we can. When those two are finally coherent enough to know what happened last night, I want you to take all that information, and use it to find whoever it is we're looking for."

"Yes, ma'am," the Ranger said, turning around on his heel, walking across the floor of her office in a small shuffle, a small chuckle coming from the former teacher. "Cyril..."

"Yeah, Laura?" the electric trainer questioned in reply.

"Please be careful," the woman said in warning. "I don't know anything of what happened last night, and I can't even begin to know what kind of people attacked Norihisa and Iori, but consider what your battle with the latter was like."

"Yeah, I know," Cyril responded. "He's a special kid. But just keep in mind one more thing," he started, turning back around to the door, still looking at the chairwoman with his relaxed smile. "This is what we're trained for. It's like you said, this is the job we can do, no matter what anyone does to keep us from doing it." And with that, he disappeared into the hallway, Laura feeling a bit better on what happened, but still worried about what could happen if she was right in thinking what if the Scrappers had someone like Iori on their side.

" _If you wish to use me as a special soldier in your war, keep in mind that once the other side has someone similar to me, the situation on both sides would become quite grim…"_

* * *

Characters:

Norihisa Inaba and Michi the Carnivine: Wintre

Iori Hasegawa and Makotsu the Duskull: NightFall-sensei

Kameyo Ine and Yuuki the Fletchinder: Masuyo Takishima

Madoka Sakurai and Dokusei the Croagunk: Umbruhon

Cyril Tesar and Svetlo the Luxio: Galaxykid

* * *

Japanese Notes: So, just like last time, I'm going to be notes on things that I either find interesting about the pokémon or aspects of the story when things may not always make sense on the basis of the Japanese culture used in the story. Keeping in mind, most of the characters so far have evidence of Japanese lineage from their names and even the nicknames they use for their pokémon, Cyril so far being the only exception. But during the chapter, there was one instance of complete Japanese culture when Madoka was speaking directly to Iori, so I thought I'd start these notes whenever something comes up I can write a few words on.

Honorifics: If you've read a lot of my stories, you probably already know a lot about this, but I find that a lot of people usually have general ideas of how to use Japanese honorifics without the finite details the Japanese language uses them in, so this is a little cheat sheet to understand the more common of them as they are present in Japanese nomenclature

"-san": The more general and gender neutral honorific, used primarily by strangers who have a connection to the person, but not the closeness to use something more familiar. Generally when you see this in anime, it's because the two people talking know each other, but don't have the same kind of relationship as, say, a friend would. If you're speaking Japanese to somebody, but don't know them very well, this is the best one to use to keep from belittling or raising somebody's status carelessly.

"-kun": Another very common one to hear in normal conversation, this honorific is generally used when speaking to somebody who is male that is of the same or similar age, or considerably younger than you who you have a closer relationship with, either a friend, boyfriend, or younger sibling. Most people have the misconception that this can be used for anyone who is male, but again, how you refer to somebody is going to be based on their status in society and how close they are to you. Conversely, this can be used for girls as well, but only in specific cases, usually when a teacher refers to their student, and usually when they show more masculine traits than female.

"-chan": Probably the one I see people misconstrue the most, many people think of this as the female equivalent to "-kun" when in reality, this one implies a very close relationship. This is usually meant to insinuate some kind of childishness, romantic relationship, or being incredibly friendly with, although usually with a female. Generally, males are not referred to with this one, unless they're being mocked by somebody or in that close relationship, and when you do use it, make sure it's with somebody who doesn't mind being referred to in a childish way.

"-sama": This is the basic honorific for when you want to talk to somebody of higher social status than you. Dependent on their job, rank, or otherwise, you may refer to them as something different, but in most cases, speaking with somebody without a specific job title will result in the use of this one. This would be like talking to somebody you work for if you were a servant, or have great respect for, referring to them as some kind of lord or king.

Konshin: In the chapter, Madoka uses a technique she calls "Konshin." For those that have played Pokémon Conquest, the idea of the Warlord Abilities is obvious, and this is merely the Japanese interpretation of one. Given this one allowed Dokusei to use much more of its power, the actual translation became simpler than just trying to find one version of this that fit. As such, I do believe, in this context, this ability probably comes from 渾身 which means the "entire body" insinuating, the ability allows Croagunk to use its entire body's potential power.

* * *

Pokémon Notes: And continuing on with this:

Fletchinder: The Ember Pokémon, 2'04" (0.7m), 35.3lbs. (16kg). Fletchinder's pokédex entries usually talk about its affinity to fire, both referencing its tendency to set grasses ablaze from fire that spews from its beak to lure prey out of hiding, or that the hotter its body temperature becomes, the faster it can move through the air. Fletchinder's English name is most likely a combination of the fletching bird and cinder, whereas its Japanese name Hinoyakoma is a grouping of the words for fire sparks, the arrow design of its tail, and the word for the Japanese robin, much like its pre-evolved form. Another reference to it may also be of the flame robin, a species of bird living in Australia known for their bright red plumage. Fletchinder is recognized as the pokémon with the longest English name where it totals eleven, whereas many pokémon were bound to a ten character maximum.

Croagunk: the Toxic Mouth Pokémon, 2'04" (0.7m), 50.7lbs. (23kg). Croagunk is normally spoken of in the pokédex as a pokémon unafraid of underhanded tactics, one such saying that it rarely ever fights fairly. Others normally talk about the poison sacs in its cheek that deflate to make a supposedly intimidating croaking sound. Croagunk is made on the poison dart frog, a species of amphibian found in South America, where local tribes would extract their poison and tip the ends of their blow darts or spears in order to cause poisoning to their targets, either in times of war or hunting. Species of poison dart frogs, specifically the golden variety, are said to have enough poison to kill ten to twenty full grown men or ten thousand mice. Croagunk's name is based on the onomatopoeia of a frog's croak and gunk, probably referencing its poison sacs. Its Japanese name Gureggru, also has elements of that croaking sound, but in the Japanese language, and possible the onomatopoeia for disgusting or the word for filth.

* * *

Chapter Two Complete: Well that took longer than expected. Then again, knowing my track record, that's not saying much. Anyway, we got the next chapter up, and already we're kicking this thing into high gear, hopefully it's not too fast for you guys to keep up with. I do want to thank each of you for your comments on the chapter and for what you thought went well, and what may need some work. I do have an idea of what I should be trying to do better, and maybe you and I are on the same wavelength. Anyway, in this chapter we have more of Norihisa's interaction with Iori and the introduction to some of our antagonists, a surly Scrapper named Kameyo who has a real hatred for the Rangers, and Madoka, a Ransei Descendant like Iori who uses a katana and may just start putting things into perspective for us. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and until we meet again, ja na.


	4. Growing Pains and Discovering Power

Hey guys, NightFall here with the next chapter of ISK. Still not really used to saying that since I've had fifty-plus chapters of introducing it as HDD. At any rate, we've got the next chapter coming up for what can be considered my more intense story since we do have a lot of mention of martial arts and with the last chapter an actual injury from such. So last time, we introduced Kameyo, a Scrapper with a chip of her shoulder about Rangers in general, and Madoka, another of the Ransei Descendants who seems to have a certain aim on Iori. I think my favorite part about last chapter, however, was a bit more we got out of Norihisa, and in this chapter I can promise we'll see a bit more of another certain character, nudge-nudge wink-wink. Anyway, I think you guys have heard enough out of this bag of hot air, and all I can say is thank you for continuing to read my newest story, and I hope it does continue to go somewhere.

 **DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN POKÉMON, BECAUSE IF I DID, REMORAID WOULD NOT EVOLVE INTO AN OCTOPUS.**

Chapter 3: Growing Pains and Discovering Power

* * *

How many of you have ever heard the saying "what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger?" The idea centers on the pain and loss you suffer can only increase your skill and experience so long as it doesn't keep you from moving forward at all. In all fairness, it is a fairly universal concept. The idea that you can always learn from your mistakes, what you did wrong one time won't repeat itself because you've learned something to keep it from happening, or even that the sins of the past are never committed twice. Well, as sad as it is to say, not everything that we survive makes us better than we were before. The prevailing idea is that when we live through something, we're all the better for having gone through it, but what about people who still have lasting trauma? Clearly, their pain and suffering hasn't made them any stronger. In most cases, it makes them seem pathetic, unable to live past what happened, but were forced to because they survived. Or what about the mistakes you made in the first place? In reality, you can't become so powerful as to take back what already happened. So, does living through hardship really make you stronger? Or does strength come from someplace else?

* * *

A powerful streak screamed across his vision as Iori could do nothing but watch it unfold. Barely able to follow it with his eyes, the trainer saw his partner get launched into the air, disappearing from view. What followed was the sound of a boulder shattering to pieces, the shrapnel flying towards him. As it passed through his body without losing any speed, Iori fell to his knees, taking a few seconds to catch his breath, and then look up at the sight of a long, metal blade. Up further was Madoka's face, grinning triumphantly with her Croagunk sneering down with equal confidence. The fear growing in his eyes was unmistakable as the young girl brought her blade above her head, the red aura around Croagunk's body still burning in the black scenery.

"This is your penance for denying yourself," she said, making a giant swing downward, the katana slashing down across Iori's body, everything immediately going cold around him. "This won't end here, even if you die…" her voice echoed cryptically as the male warrior fell backwards into the dark abyss that surrounded both of them. It was like plummeting off the edge of a cliff where there was no end, Madoka only staying long enough to see his descent, slowly turning back and walking away.

As he fell faster and faster, the wind pushed back on Iori hard enough to hurt and the boy made one last scream into the darkness.

* * *

Dateline: October 3, Fall City Ranger Training Facility, Fiore Region

Iori's head immediately jerked upwards, completely out of breath, blinded from the side by the midday sun. Looking over at the clock next to his bed, it was almost three hours before he normally woke up, meaning it was already mid-afternoon. As he looked around the area, he noticed most of it was cast in white, two identical rows of beds lined the walls, and a woman in a lab coat walked back and forth along the hallways.

" _Infirmary,"_ he said to himself, looking over at the far end of the makeshift hospital, noticing Norihisa sitting up in his own bed, Michi's vines protectively wrapped around him. _"Makotsu!"_

Suddenly, he'd remembered his own partner, and immediately tried to get out from under his covers. But when his feet hit the ground, a giant sting of pain ran through from his spine to his brain. Hearing the grunt from her end, the nurse noticed her patient was finally awake, and immediately walked towards him.

"You can't get up yet," she said in a stern tone, Iori reaching for his glasses as he let out a few breaths. "You still have a wound that needs to be treated, so I can't let you leave until it's been diagnosed." Quickly, the trainer reached around and touched his back, noticing a dip in his skin from where Madoka's blade had pierced him. But then second he touched it, the same pain ran through to his head that immediately made him fall to the ground.

In front of his eyes, dots of color started exploding, almost blinding him, the room appearing as though it were shifting position back and forth. Everything looked like it was melting, the sight of it all too much for him, forcing Iori's eyes closed. The nurse hoisted him back onto his bed, this time on his stomach so she could inspect the stab from last night. As she lifted his shirt, and saw where the puncture was made, she looked at it strangely.

"How did you get this injury?" she asked, Iori still groaning from the pain. "This looks too clean to be from a normal knife, so what caused this?" she asked a bit louder, beginning to get impatient with the boy in her charge.

"It was from a girl last night," Norihisa said from the end of the room. "She had this long samurai sword, and she must've got the better of him." His voice was distant as he stared out the window at the whipping winds carrying dirty colored leaves in their wake. From the reflection in the glass, he could see his guest trying to fight the pain as best he could, his breaths so labored his entire body moved with them. _"He beat us so soundly, that Iori,"_ he told himself. _"And she was able to beat him. I don't even know how soundly it was, but she was able to get the better of him. For as much as Laura wanted him to be on our side, if the Scrappers have that girl, what have we gained?"_

Turning his eyes back up to the window, Michi's trainer could see his own reflection, the other girl from last night, Kameyo, already back in his mind.

" _She's not like other Scrappers,"_ he determined. _"She doesn't just have problems with us, she has an absolute hatred. She'd use a weapon that could be used to steal a lot of things for her, and she decides to try and knock my lights out. None of what they did made any sense."_ He let out a large breath. _"Laura's probably gonna take me off active duty for this. She cares too much about us and not the job we have to do. Who did she even get to investigate what happened?"_

Suddenly the doors to the infirmary swung open, the grass pokémon's trainer giving a noticeable groan as Cyril walked in. He seemed like his normal self, smiling with that contented look in his almost completely invisible eyes. By now, Iori's pain had subsided and the nurse finished applying some kind of disinfectant lotion to the perimeter, trying not to apply directly to the partially open wound. Walking by him, the injury fully visible, one of Cyril's eyes opened wide, the nurse feeling a definite chill at the sight of the brilliant blue iris.

"'Kay, bud, let's have a little chat," he directed at Norihisa, Svetlo following in after him, almost completely ramming into the back of his leg. "I need you to tell me everything you know about what happened."

"She really sent you to do this?" the younger ranger asked, unconvinced by all of this. "I've never seen you take an investigation seriously in your life."

"Who says I'm taking this one seriously?" Cyril fired back. "Just tell me what you remember about at least somebody involved with this, and I'll sick Svetlo on 'em."

"See, now I'm not sure if you're serious or not," Norihisa continued with their banter. "I can only remember the Scrapper girl more clearly. She's about my height, fit build, sort of reddish brown hair chopped off at her neck level, kinda goes into one of her eyes, blue," he started listing, Cyril's face growing into a smug grin. "She's got a couple piercings in both ears and this big scar up one of her arms."

"How good of a look did you get at this girl?" the electric trainer asked mischievously. "Something tells me you were taking _very_ detailed notes about her."

"Isn't it my job to know what people look like?" the other questioned in reply.

"What arm was the scar on?" Cyril asked.

"Right, probably goes all the way up to the shoulder," Norihisa answered, not realizing how many details he'd remembered. "She's also got this weird gauntlet thing that'll send a shock straight to your system, so maybe stay out of arm's reach with her, okay?"

"Yeah, I'll leave that to you," the older Ranger chuckled, looking back towards the door about ready to leave.

"Are you sure you'll be able to find them?" his coworker questioned, sounding a bit concerned for his safety.

"As long as I trust Svetlo, I can find anyone," Cyril said, leaving on that line as the small feline pokémon looked up at Iori, the quiet victim staring back down at the electric type. Suddenly, Luxio jumped up and began lowering its nose down to the still closing wound, sniffing around at it, shaking its head disdainfully at the smell.

Without any explanation the pokémon and trainer were off in the distance, Norihisa noticing that Iori's breath was still labored, the pain nowhere near from leaving his system. As he stepped out from the bed, any injury he suffered nothing compared to the stab wound his mysterious companion had, the Ranger started shuffling around the medicine cabinet in the infirmary, the nurse having finally left them alone.

" _I doubt that girl is done with us,"_ he said to himself, pushing the bottles of actual medicine away into the back, finding some small bunches of leaves and other herbs in the farthest part of the shelves. _"The hard truth, though, is we're completely outclassed by her Croagunk. Iori's the only one of us who has any hope of matching her in battle. But that begs the question how she was able to beat him in the first place. Better yet, where's Duskull?"_ he wondered, looking around the room, and noticed the only pokémon was his. _"Iori…what kind of person are you?"_

Without another thought, Norihisa grabbed whatever herbs he could find and a small stone mixing bowl from the top of the cabinet. Immediately he began mixing the plants together, crushing them with a small cylinder of wood. All the while, he stared at Iori, wondering why things had to turn out the way they did.

* * *

Near the outside of the Ranger's training facility, Cyril and Svetlo stopped for the tracker among them to sniff around trying to find the most likely place their targets would be. The electric type took a few minutes, but then motioned with its head to the right, Cyril taking a wide step with his hands still stuffed in his pockets before the two headed out.

Looking back and forth from the city structures, Cyril tried to remember the last time he ever just was walking around town. Admittedly, he was out on a lot on missions, but never in such a domestic place. Looking side to side at the different patrons, many of them not even having a pokémon, it was something of a surreal feeling for him. He'd almost always had Svetlo by his side, but thinking on it now, it'd probably only been five years since the two met.

As he took in the splendor of the seemingly peaceful world the townsfolk had made for themselves, a small hiss came from Svetlo's throat, turning to a small coffee shop. Its shoulders lowered and it began crawling towards the other customers slowly, as though stalking its prey. Cyril took immediate notice, almost never seeing his fun loving partner act like this. He walked up to the outside of the shop, a small glint of reflected light coming into his eyes. He flinched only slightly and looked down to see a gold piece of metal sticking out of someone's bag. When he lifted his head to see who the bag belonged to, a small grin came across his face to see the girl Norihisa described perfectly.

Kameyo looked fairly content where she was, taking in an easy breath and a small sip of her drink. Across from her was her pokémon Yuuki, the avian preening its feathers. On both sides of her, people watched her nervously, if not for her appearance, but the mere notice that she had a pokémon. Cyril smiled at that, knowing he got those looks a lot as well even though he was a Ranger, somebody people were supposed to trust. He started walking towards her, but Svetlo immediately charged with electricity, turning around and sending a bolt of lightning directly into the distance.

At first, the zap sounded like a gunshot, the customers all clamoring at once, Kameyo looking up from her drink, the Scrapper smiling as she motioned for Yuuki. The flying type gave a single flap of its wings and flew like a missile at its opponent. Cyril just took a few steps back and shrugged its shoulders, Svetlo giving a giant roar that sent a flurry of electrical sparks all around it. Not even missing a beat, Luxio spun around, and met Fletchinder head-on, the electricity of its Spark transferring to the flying type and sending it back to its trainer.

"Well, that didn't necessarily work out," Cyril commented. "And that, my friends, is how you hit two birds with one zap," he joked, almost bursting into laughter had it not been for Kameyo instantly putting on her glove and pressing it to the Ranger's back. Without warning, a jolt of electricity was sent coursing through his body, Cyril just tilting his head back and forth waiting for it to be over.

"Huh?" the Scrapper questioned.

"Please, I live with this little troublemaker," he answered, Svetlo giving him a playful bite on his leg, a small zap going up his pants. "Honestly, if she gets at me with less voltage than a stun gun I can't sleep at night."

"Tell me you're joking," Kameyo responded.

"Wish I could, sweetheart," Cyril lied, grabbing the glove right off her hand. "And I'll just be confiscating this. Don't necessarily need you electrocuting anyone else. Unless, of course, you've already done that." He gave her an expectant look, Kameyo just shaking her head.

"I know you're a Ranger," she said. "And I know why you're looking for me."

"Good, so this'll be easier than I was hoping," the electric type's trainer said with a grin. "Now, would you please follow me to your fate?" he asked, already knowing the answer, just not realizing anyone was behind him until a small part of his cowlick was falling front of his eyes. "Well that was unexpected." He turned around and smiled at Madoka, the younger girl sheathing her blade before anyone even knew she had it drawn.

"How do you take your coffee?" she asked, a small smile on her face.

"So, can I take this as your confession?" Cyril asked, taking a small sip from a cup brought to him as Madoka just leaned back in her chair. "I mean, based on the evidence, you two broke into a secure training facility, and both used unnecessary force and attempted murder on two of our residents."

"I'd prefer it if you didn't talk like that," Madoka responded. "I like you when you joke around more. And besides, do you think we're going to just go along with you and your pretty face?"

"It was a thought," the Ranger commented. "So, why are you agreeing to talk to me, then?"

"I like you, Cyril," the warrior suddenly said, the electric trainer feigning flattery at her response. "If it meant turning to the dark side, so to speak, you'd probably abandon your post, wouldn't you?" she asked, the other just shrugging his shoulders. "But, you and your Rangers aren't cops. You shouldn't have to deal with 'criminals' like my sweet Kameyo," she said, pulling the Scrapper closer to her with her foot, wrapping an arm over her neck after the chair shuffled in. "You're better off when you're saving lives. And that's why you wanted to be a Ranger, isn't it?"

"Why I chose my career isn't what we're talking about," Cyril brought up. "You hurt people I care about, and I don't like it when I can't help someone. So tell me why you hurt Iori. I can already take a guess why _she_ did what she did," he said, giving Kameyo a glancing look. "Right now, Scrappers and Rangers are like oil and water, we just don't mix well."

"Or at all," the Scrapper added on.

"Iori is a very special person to me, though he doesn't know it yet," Madoka attempted to explain. "We both are direct descendants of people from a region called Ransei. You've heard of it, surely."

"I have, and don't call me Shirley," Cyril joked, Kameyo trying to reach over and punch him, only for Madoka to pull her back immediately. "I don't think there's anyone that doesn't know about it. We all get told stories about this mythic place where people and pokémon can use magic."

"We prefer to call it the Warlord's Ability," the young girl corrected. "With it, we're able to influence the strength of our links with our chi, or whatever you people choose to call it, and then we're able to do truly extraordinary things with it."

"So, why is Iori so important?" the Ranger wondered.

"He and I are directly related to very special people in the region," Madoka continued. "Also, he has tons of information that I want. I'm even willing to make a small trade for the information I want, and I'm sure the relief he desires."

"So you did stab him," Cyril figured, the girl in front of him smiling.

"Only a little," she replied. "I want Iori to get better. I feel like I can find everything I want if we're together. So to keep him from escaping, I gave him a little parting gift," she explained. "The tip of this blade was dipped in a very special poison I made up. Lethal to plants and just so painful to humans. Pokémon poison is quite an interesting area of study, if you weren't aware. A single drop of Dokusei's poison has the toxicity to kill a flowerbed of nearly ten square feet, but on people…once it's in the bloodstream, it will spread to his brain. He won't die, he's too precious to me for that, but he'll understand the pain I can cause if I don't get what I want."

"A neurotoxin," Cyril summarized.

"Something like that," Madoka confirmed. "In all fairness, though, people get poisoned all the time and live with no problems. Sickness itself is a poison, but your body is able to naturally heal itself because it knows how to fight foreign bodies that have invaded," she went into detail, moving her chair to the side, Cyril now looking in the distance at an older man. "If you move at all, I'll stab you without a second thought," she threatened, holding her blade next to his knee.

"What are you talking about?" the Ranger questioned worried.

"I'm just going to make a point," the warrior said. "That man is either going to live or die in the next five minutes," she declared, one of Cyril's eyes opening with Kameyo feeling the same chill as the nurse did before. "I've put chemicals in his food," she explained. "One in the pastry and one in the drink. One of them is a deadly poison that will choke his lungs if he doesn't have an antidote. The other is the antidote. While he eats his little snack, the order in which he does so will determine if he lives or dies."

Cyril couldn't believe what was happening, and then watched as the man took a bite out of the small piece of cake. The pit in the Ranger's stomach was forming and growing wilder with each passing second. Suddenly, the possible victim cleared his throat, Cyril about to move, only for Madoka's blade to follow him, forcing him back down. By instinct, the man took a sip of his drink, and straightened his collar.

Looking back at Cyril, Madoka noticed how labored his breathing was becoming, the nervous sweat forming over his face, a wicked smile appearing on her face. She looked back over and saw the man hailing over a waitress. None of them could hear what he was saying, but as he held up the cake and pointed at it, it was clear he wasn't happy with the results, and had them send it back. Madoka smirked as she relaxed her sword, and drew it back into the scabbard. She fell limp back into her seat and smiled.

"We all have a choice to live or die, and sometimes we make that choice unconsciously," she said, trying to drive her point home. "And Iori has a choice to do the same. I will give him the antidote if he agrees to be with me and help me find my ancestor's home, or he can suffer for as long as he wants, if he doesn't help me, then I don't care," she said with a giant grin, turning around, but found herself taken quite aback by the intense expression on Cyril's face, still only one of his eyes fully opened, but the intense, electric blue color in it was almost paralyzing.

"You just decided to play a game where an innocent man's life hung in the balance," he started, standing back up, Svetlo jumping up onto the table. "I have devoted my entire life to making sure people stay safe, and then people like you show up, and think that because you're so superior, that the life of another doesn't matter as long as you're trying to make a point. Just because we're a flawed species doesn't mean anyone deserves to live in pain, and it's my job to see to it that you answer for your crimes."

"You're not being much fun anymore, Cyril," Madoka said, her eyes started to dim as Kameyo stood up.

"I just don't like things being tense," the electric trainer said. "I might just break out if things ever got too intense for me to handle."

"Whether or not you agree with my methods is none of my concern," Madoka said, her Croagunk jumping down from the roof and staring back at him with a cold gaze. "But you will give me Iori if I have to take him." Kameyo and Yuuki both stared at the single Ranger, Svetlo growling as the three prepared for their bout.

* * *

Iori was still moaning through the pain as Norihisa kept a watchful eye on him, continuing to work the herbs into some kind of paste, crushing them over and over within the stone mixer. As he finished his work, he started to walk over to his new acquaintance. Slowly, he lifted up Iori's shirt to reveal the wound now on his back. Thankfully it didn't look infected, the Ranger taking some of the newly crafted lotion on his fingers, ready to apply it.

The second he did, the warrior's pain looked like it was subsiding, his breathing starting to slow down and his constant movement trying to alleviate some of the pain had begun to stop as well. Seeing his work actually did some good, Norihisa fell back onto one of the beds, wiping some sweat off of his forehead.

"I wonder what was making that hurt so much," he said to Michi, the grass type wrapped around the bed frame closest to the patient. "It's weird. He seems so tough and invincible, I wonder just how strong that girl really is if she was able to do this to him. Hopefully he'll wake up and we can start to figure this out." Before he could continue his train of thought, the doors to the infirmary slammed open, the chairwoman and Cecelia walking in, aimed directly at Iori, Norihisa deciding it better to stay out of their way.

"Please, miss, you're becoming too involved with this," Breloom's trainer warned. "You have to distance yourself from him as much as possible right now."

"The hell I will," Laura shot back angrily, the noise the two were making causing Iori to start to wake up. "Please, you have to tell us what happened."

At the sound of her request, the strange boy sat up, his eyes glancing over the same scenery from before and then to Norihisa. With a simple nod of his head to say thank you for the ointment, Iori turned back to the adults, folding his legs as though in meditation.

"It's nothing too difficult to understand," he started out. "I fought with somebody that was better trained. The advantage of a sword over a lance is when a warrior can close the distance," he explained, images of two people beginning to fight with the two descendant's weapons appearing in his head. "Pole arms like my naginata are best when used in long range, using the tip as a cutting edge," he continued, the constructed image in his mind making a long, downward swing, only the very tip of the blade slicing through its opponent. "But when a swordsman is able to get closer, too far in for the longer weapon to reach, it's no longer a battle, and instead, a massacre," he finished, the faceless swordsman in his head dodging past the first strike and then stabbing directly facing the opponent.

"Where would that person get that kind of training?" the older Ranger wondered.

"There're hundreds of places we could look at before figuring out who they are," the chairwoman responded.

"Her name is Madoka Sakurai," Iori stated blankly, the other two a bit surprised he knew his attacker. "It's customary in battle to honor your opponent with your name if they don't already know it. Outside of her name and her link, I don't know much about her."

"I've heard you call pokémon that before," Laura mentioned. "You call them 'links,' don't you? What's that even supposed to mean?"

Despite the fact he was feeling more comfortable, the colored dots in Iori's vision made it hard for him to concentrate, forcing his eyes shut before he answered. From the outside, it looked like he was in full Zen, completely cut off from the rest of the world, but still aware of its presence.

"When I refer to a pokémon as a link, I mean to say that the pokémon and human share a bond that can't be severed," he finally answered, rubbing his eyes to hopefully make the colors go away. "If you look further into the lore of the Ransei region, it's what pokémon were called there, as well. A warrior's link was the pokémon that would follow them into battle. There wasn't such a thing as legal ownership or licenses. If a person was seen with a pokémon, everyone knew that's how it would be for all time." Finally, he seemed to be able to open his eyes, still noticing that Makotsu was nowhere. "Whoever Madoka is, she has such a mastery of her bond with her link that I couldn't overcome it."

"Is there a way to strengthen it?" Norihisa suddenly asked from the back of the room, the adults turning to him. "Does your link get stronger when your pokémon grows in level?" he reiterated.

"In theory, but why ask that now?" the warrior asked in return, noticing that the grass trainer was looking out the window, barely peering out the curtain into the courtyard.

"Because somebody wants a rematch," the Ranger replied, pulling the blinds open, Iori taking a few more seconds to see what was actually happening out the window. After his eyes had adjusted, he saw the ghostly figure of Duskull speeding back and forth, bursts of attacks following after him.

In the background, some of the other Rangers were shouting commands, the other pokémon trying their best to actually land a direct hit on the spirit. After they'd all failed in their assault, Makotsu rose up above the ground, a ring of fireballs surrounding its body. With one wave of its limp arm, the Will o' Wisp flew out at the other pokémon. Even though all of them missed, the ground around Duskull was completely scorched in a giant black circle.

Iori still watched his partner from the inside of the infirmary, and started to make his way outside. As soon as he opened the door, the sunlight became blinding, forcing his eyes shut again. It was so rare he'd be out in the daylight, but his vision had been so screwed up for the entire day. Able to open one of them with his hand protecting it with shade, Iori walked into the open, Makotsu feeling his presence, but still keeping its face turned away.

"Guilt," Laura said from the infirmary, all three of the Rangers watching the scene. "That pokémon feels responsible for the injury his partner was given, most likely."

Figuring the same thing, Iori stopped about six feet away from his link, moving towards the side of the building under the shade and took a seat on the ground. The other pokémon had stopped trying to attack, and the other Ranger trainees just watched their mysterious visitor. Everyone waited for one of them to do something, but as the ghost just hung limp in the air, the trainer seemed to be the only one able to say anything to change what had happened.

The silence was almost deafening between them, as if no sound ever existed in the world. Looking forward from where he sat, his eyes still having trouble adjusting to the light, the warrior could see where Madoka's pokémon had destroyed the giant boulder, perfectly sliced in half. After turning back to his partner, Iori reached to his bag beside him and turned to a blank page in his sketchbook.

He started make long scratches against the paper to get the basic form of Croagunk, his eyes flinching whenever he tried to think of the details on its body. The more he thought, the more his head started to hurt, forcing the paper and pencil on the ground, unable to clear his mind. His breath started to slow down, trying to keep from getting too worked up, and his head fell onto the infirmary's outside wall.

"You're angling to the left," he suddenly said, Makotsu turning, realizing he was talking to the spirit. "When you try using too many attacks like that, you get sloppy." His eyes fell over to a practice dummy left on the field. "Try using all of your Will o' Wisps on that thing."

The ghost type saw the mannequin and nodded, releasing a spiraling circle of fireballs directly at it, aiming for the very center. However, just like Iori mentioned, the attack veered to the left only slightly with scorch marks all along the left half facing Makotsu. Its shoulder and chest were stained black with some of the flame sticking around. Turning back to its trainer, Duskull waited for another order.

"Try only one this time," Iori suggested, Makotsu nodding again and aimed for the center of the chest once more, sending out a single fireball.

The spectators were amazed at the difference in speed, where this attack moved much faster through the air, no longer being connected to seven or eight others like it. Also, the dummy was struck squarely in the chest, and was even flung back a few feet on the ground. The flame also stayed attached to the cloth that comprised its body. After a few of the other Rangers put out the fire with their water type pokémon, Duskull returned to Iori's side, still looking ashamed at what'd happened.

"It's not your fault," the trainer said, the ghost type understanding that much, but still felt bad about it. "Think of it this way. She's still in this city, and as long as she is, she has a reason. You and I are that reason. We have another chance to beat her. And this time, we will win."

The confidence in his voice seemed fairly genuine to everyone…except for Duskull, noticing the shaking of his hands and the twitch in his eye. Whatever Madoka had done to him, it was starting to affect most of his body functions. The light was still blinding him, and the ghost wondered if he'd even be able to pick up his weapon like that.

Slowly, Makotsu placed its hand on Iori's shoulder, a similarly confidence expression in its eye visible. Before long, the two were stuck in a meditative position, Iori's legs crossed with Makotsu floating just above his lap. Still in the infirmary, the two administrators smirked at the two's reconciliation, but Norihisa was smiling for a different reason.

" _It's just been the two of them, hasn't it?"_ he wondered. _"To each other, neither can survive without the other. I wonder if that's what he meant by a link. No magic or special powers to get a pokémon to follow you. Just that one, inseparable bond,"_ he said to himself, looking over at Michi, the grass type watching the two of them in their silence. _"I wonder what he's thinking about right now."_

* * *

Inside of Iori's own mind, flashes of images started appearing, his head making quick twitches to the side with each second. Every so often, Madoka's face appeared with that confident grin and her sword brandished, or Dokusei bashing into his partner and then the rock. The constant replay of their battle was making his mind a mess, trying to find something in there that could potentially bring her down when he absolutely had to.

Feeling his uncertainty, Makotsu let out a hollow breath, a strange, blue aura surrounding its single eye. Using part of its psychic ability, Duskull was attempting to clear some parts of Iori's mind to find an answer. As the pictures of his opponents started to clear away, the warrior was able to see something else. It wasn't a recent memory, but something from long ago.

Watching himself, Iori figured it was when he was about ten, his body much weaker than it was today. He was holding up a long rod with a bend towards the tip, most likely a stand-in for his naginata. In front of him was a wooden dummy, and as he continued, he made wide slashes against it, the feeling of his weapon striking something solid, filling him with a sense of accomplishment. Duskull watched from the sidelines, nestled in the grass of wherever Iori lived before.

With another expert strike, the target fell to the ground, the young boy almost completely out of breath, sweat dropping from the ends of his hair. After taking a few minutes to stopping gasping for air, he started to push the mannequin back up to a standing position, holding his weapon at the ready. Just as he was about to attack, another length of wood jutted out and caught Iori's weapon forcing him to look to his side where an older man, well above fifty, stared down at him.

"A bit early for practice, Hasegawa," the man noticed, walking around the stationary figure. "Are you trying to compensate for missing your training yesterday?" Iori didn't say anything, and just started to look away, unable to raise his voice to the man training him. "Hmm, why pull this old thing out so far away from the dojo, I wonder."

All around them was a field of grassy knolls with the actual training area further down the hillsides. Iori still didn't answer him when his teacher put his hand on his head and turned him around to see a giant bruise on his cheek.

"Do I have to talk to someone?" the adult man asked, Iori covering the wound with his hand, shaking his head.

"They'll just beat me up again," he said softly, his grip tightening on the shaft of his weapon.

"Then how about I teach to defend yourself?" his teacher suddenly suggested, Iori turning around to face him, but only saw the blunt end of a bamboo sword. "Come at me, Hasegawa," he challenged, the young boy hesitantly nodding, taking a battle stance, and kept the end of his weapon lowered to the ground.

With a single step, Iori made a wide swing at the man in charge of his training. Coming within inches of his stomach, the child saw him swing his sword around so it instantly blocked the attack. With the two now in a lock, the older man pushed up on his weapon, pushing Iori back a few feet. The boy only had enough time to look up and see his opponent closing in on him, forcing him to flinch, closing his eyes, and waited to be hit.

After a few seconds of no feeling, Iori opened his eyes again, seeing the wooden blade up near his face, as though his teacher was about to slash across it, but was completely frozen in time.

"If you were to fight like that, you'd be dead right now," the old man said, lowering his stance, and started to walk away from his student. "Let's try something different," he offered, quickly turning around and started to make an upward slash at the young boy.

Out of instinct, Iori stepped to the side, and met the end of the blade with his own, trying to push it away. A small smirk came across his teacher's face as he returned to a resting stance. The boy was still out of breath as he looked up, Duskull still watching from afar, knowing nothing was going to happen if it was just the old man.

"Tell me what you did different," the older of them questioned.

"I-I, um, defended?" Iori asked, unsure of his own answer, his teacher chuckling.

"Precisely," he said. "The weapon you have is not a sword, so don't treat it as such. When you fight, it is your job to not be an aggressor, but a defender. A sword is a weapon to be used on the battlefield to feel the breath of your opponent upon your face, but a lance, a spear, a weapon like yours is meant to defend from afar. This world has decided that you are to be separate from others, and though it may seem cruel, there's little you can do to change it. So instead of trying to change what you are, accept yourself, and find strength in what others consider your weakness."

Iori just stood there stunned, looking at his weapon and then to his teacher. The two sat down in the grassy field, both in silent meditation for almost an hour until the older man opened his eyes.

"Are you aware of the four powers?" he asked, the boy turning to stare at him questioningly. "Our links are governed by four base powers: health, attack, defense, and speed. They're what define the creatures' strengths and weaknesses, and like your acquired fighting style, links like Makotsu have their own that they specialize in. A tip for the future, try and find out what his base power is, and maybe it'll help things along."

Iori, still a bit meek compared to what he would become, merely nodded and looked back to his partner, the ghost pokémon was almost completely asleep.

* * *

The scenery then started to disappear, and the blackness of Iori's mind returned him to the present. His eyes slowly opened, but flinched once again when the light caused him that same intense pain from before. He rubbed his eyes together and started to make his way back into the medical building. Duskull followed after him, and when the two were finally back inside, only Norihisa was still there. Michi waved to the two of them with its trainer relaxed on one of the beds.

"So are you gonna fight her again?" the Ranger asked.

"No," Iori answered, the older of the two admittedly surprised to see that. "I'm not going to fight her because he wants to fight me. And I think we can use that."

Norihisa smirked. "If Cyril needs help bringing in that Scrapper, you can count on me to help you out a bit." Iori silently thanked him, trying to walk towards one of the beds to sit down, his legs almost giving out from under him. "Geez, what did that girl do to you?"

"She poisoned him," a voice said from the door, Norihisa turning to it to see Cyril holding Svetlo in his arms, the pokémon inches form unconsciousness. "She said that Croagunk's poison could act as a neurotoxin, and right now it's coursing through his veins," he explained, walking past the two of them, placing the panting electric type on one of the beds. "It's probably what's affecting your vision."

"I take it you found her," the younger Ranger speculated, Cyril nodding, looking over his defeated partner. "What happened to you two?" The normally happy and upbeat man looked up at the ceiling, the flickering light like the sun that was above the three pokémon when they all jumped at each other.

* * *

Without needing orders, Svetlo released a flurry of charged energy through the air in the form of its Spark attack, trying to ram into Fletchinder, only for Croagunk to jump in its way. With an expert chop of its hand, Dokusei sent the electric pokémon straight down to the ground, its fire and flying battling partner swooping down with its body covered in a blaze. Inches off of the ground, Luxio turned to see Yuuki rocketing towards it, and then launch it straight into the wall of the café the three met at.

Quickly, Cyril ran back onto the street towards where his pokémon had just been thrown. Before he got there, Svetlo emerged from the rubble, its body charging with lightning with a wild look in its eye. The Ranger looked to both of his opponents confidently, knowing how determined his pokémon could be.

With a gleam in its eye, Svetlo's fangs erupted with streaks of lightning, running directly at the poison and fighting amphibian. With the attack aimed towards it, Dokusei held up its arms up in defense, rushing towards it in the same way. As the two came towards each other, the electric pokémon's jaw opened as wide as possible, the poison type ready to accept the attack and retaliate.

However, just as Croagunk thrust its arm forward to strike its opponent, Svetlo stepped off of the very tip of its hand, jumping into the air towards where Yuuki was waiting to make its next move. With both of the opposing pokémon caught off guard, the flying type could mount a preemptive defense, and was caught up in the powerful bite. The electricity coursed through its body until the bird was shot out like a cannonball towards some of the other customers. As soon as the pokémon hit one of the tables, everyone in the vicinity started screaming and rushed to get away.

Kameyo ran to her pokémon's side, and helped Fletchinder regain its balance, seeing that its injuries wouldn't be enough to take it down. Before the two could reenter the battle, though, Luxio had just landed back on the ground behind Dokusei, its body already charging with more electrical power. Unable to jump out of the way fast enough, Croagunk was rammed into from behind, the same shocking sensation rushing through its veins. After the attack finished, the poison pokémon was thrown from where it stood almost directly to Cyril, the Ranger looking down at where his feet were and then took a single step to the side. Immediately after, the amphibian was pushed into the wall.

"Hmm, I've heard of being a wallflower, but this is ridiculous," Cyril joked, let out a large burst of laughter, slapping his own knee, looking back at the Scrapper and Descendant, a similar look on both of their faces. "Let me guess, shut-up?" Both of them nodded.

Without warning, Croagunk burst out of the wall, a fairly annoyed expression on its face before taking off after Luxio. Figuring that Fletchinder wouldn't be rejoining the battle, the electric type jumped back against the fence outside of the coffee shop, using the extra momentum to propel itself forward like a missile towards the poison and fighting mix. The quadruped starting focusing energy in its claws, small sparks of lightning trailing its footsteps while a bright purple hue began forming in Dokusei's fingertips.

When the two started to get close enough to each other, Madoka's pokémon jumped first, hanging in the air for several seconds before angling its attack straight down. Looking up at its opponent, Svetlo looked like it was about to go airborne as well, about to jump when Cyril noticed a sudden change in the wind pressure.

Looking ahead at the where it was coming from, two small twisters blew out from where Fletchinder was flung to, aimed at his pokémon's ankles. Svetlo felt one of them whip past it, causing the pokémon to misstep, and leaving it open for the second to fully damage its body. Now on the ground, the feline looked up and saw Croagunk barreling down towards it with poisoned tipped fingers ready to just stab straight through it if the poison type were so inclined. Instead, it was content in making a shoveling motion, picking Luxio off of the ground in a wide scoop.

Now in the air, and almost completely helpless, Cyril's pokémon looked forward and saw Yuuki once more covered in fire ramming into it. However, after impact, when Svetlo was being flung back to its trainer, Dokusei jumped in its path and placed its palm on its back. Hearing a small click of the tongue, Cyril looked back at Madoka, her hands held together like they were the previous night when she battled against Iori.

"This is what you've invited into this war," she warned, her single breath causing Croagunk to flinch and then refocus on all of Luxio's pressure points. _"Konshin!"_ she shouted, just like before, a menacing red aura surrounding her pokémon in an instant.

" _What's happening?"_ Cyril questioned when all of a sudden, the slightest pressure from the poison pokémon's hand caused Luxio to go directly into the ground.

It was like an instant reaction, the stones that made up the road misplaced in his pokémon's silhouette as Cyril almost broke down to his knees. Just before, though, Madoka was already upon him, the sharp end of her blade less than inches from his neck, slowly grabbing Kameyo's gauntlet out of his hand.

"Iori and I aren't weapons for your conflict," the warrior hissed, the Ranger watching Kameyo sit back down as though nothing had happened. "I am no more allied with Scrappers than he is with you Rangers. Our paths just happened to cross, and so we play the hand we've been dealt. But Iori is one of the single most important people in the world to me, and that's why you're going to give him a message."

At first, Cyril didn't respond, still too worried about his partner to come up with any coherent thought.

"What's your message?" he asked, the young girl smiling wickedly as he blade slowly drew away from him.

* * *

"She said that as long you choose to stay with us, she's going to attack and sabotage what the Rangers stand for," Cyril relayed, never once turning around to face either his coworker or his new friend. "More specifically, I think she doesn't care if you're with us, but rather if you're against her. She just doesn't feel anything about killing people, does she?"

"In ancient times, she'd be the ultimate samurai," Iori reasoned. "I am sorry for what happened to you and Luxio, but are you asking me to leave this place?" he wondered, unsure of what Cyril's motives were.

"No, the Rangers don't believe in putting innocent people in danger's path," the older boy answered promptly. "But I'd very much to hurt those two for what they did to Svetlo," he started up, stroking his pokémon's weakened body. "She is one of the few things in this world that I can't live without. I hate seeing her get hurt like this. But that Madoka, she can do something to her pokémon. She can make it more powerful with just a word."

"She's using what people thought of as magic in the legends of my ancestry," the male warrior tried to explain. "In the legends of Ransei, there're some records that say warlords could influence a pokémon's strength through their chi, which is what made them such powerful people."

"Magic isn't really something we invest too much time in," Norihisa mentioned.

Iori found little to say after that, folding his legs as though meditating again and clapped his hands together. Slowly, his ring and pinky fingers folded over each other, and he let out a slow, icy cold breath, both Rangers astounded at Duskull's reaction, as though the breeze was directly on its spine despite being off to the side.

"I've never believed in magic," Iori said. "But whenever I do this, all I can prove is that my soul, my spirit, is connected with Makotsu. We call it a Perfect Link. A state where our breath is connected and we're able to battle together as opposed to being a planner and a soldier."

"Well right now we could use some of that," Cyril brought up. "I know she did a number on you, and I don't what that poison's gonna do to you in the next few hours, but do you think there's a way to beat her and that Scrapper?"

"If I could study Dokusei long enough to draw him, I'd understand more about his abilities, probably," the younger of the two answered. "But that also means I have to worry about her blade. If that thing is constantly dipped in a poison, it's almost twice as deadly."

"Leave that to me," Norihisa suddenly said from behind the two of them. "I still have a score to settle with that girl and her sparky glove. So I'm more than willing to show them what Michi and I can do," he declared confidently, the grass type floating behind him with its arms crossed.

"The girl that's like you has the antidote for whatever she put you through, so if you can get that from her, maybe we'll stand a better chance," Cyril brought up to Iori, the warrior nodding as he looked over to the bed he was at for most of the day already, the long shaft of his weapon completely. "Iori," he started up again, garnering both boys' attention. "She made sure I knew that in the end you're not affiliated with us. If you wanted to leave and just put all of this behind you, I don't think we'd hold it against you."

"Madoka Sakurai…," the warrior slowly began. "She hurts people, and in the name of ancestors at that. I know the Ransei region was one of bloodshed, people and pokémon alike. But what she did to you, your pokémon, to my link, and to me…I can't see myself joining with someone like that. I may not be your asset, but I will help wherever I'm needed."

Cyril's smile slowly returned, and he held out his hand for Iori, the shorter of the two grasping it quickly in a firm handshake, Norihisa ready to make preparations with the warrior for the battle that would commence that night.

* * *

Meanwhile, tucked away in the wreckage that once might be considered a warehouse, later in the day amidst the orange glow of the sunset, Madoka sat alone in the creeping darkness. In front of her, the blade she had struck down Iori with lay on the ground. She had been sitting in meditation for probably hours by now, both completely oblivious and aware of the world around her at the same time.

At one point, a small twitch appeared in the corner of her eye, and suddenly her sword was drawn, and pointed out as though to stab someone. After a few seconds, a smirk appeared on her face as she opened her eyes and saw Croagunk crouched over, perfectly balanced on the very tip of her weapon.

"I hope he makes the right choice," she said, the poison type nodding with a low croaking bellow. "It'll be difficult to find anything else on my homeland if he chooses to be disobedient."

"Do you even really need him?" Kameyo asked, walking in from the darkness. "If you're so sure he's found out so much, you could probably find out just as much stuff as he has."

"You sound as if you're not going to enjoy this," Madoka teased. "Getting to go to the heartland of your enemies and punish as many of them as possible. If I were you, I'd be like a kid in a candy store."

"Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful that you give me to the chance to take those hypocrites down a peg or two," the Scrapper started off. "But why is this one guy so important that you're willing to devote that much time to him?"

"It's not so much him as a person, but more of what he represents," the warrior explained. "My ancestry is filled with great warriors and powerful leaders. But what does that mean if nobody even believes they existed, or assume the worst because of their belief? Just by looking at him in the eye, I can tell he's not just another people with the genes of Ransei. He's like me," she said, a melancholy smile on her face as she sheathed her sword. "He's faced those that treat him like a monster, and he's live past them."

"Why would the people that trained with you think of you in that way?" Kameyo wondered, walking behind her as the two girls made their way back into the streets.

"Our ancestors, our specific ancestors, are known for their leadership and respect, but also for their time on the battlefield," Madoka answered. "And if I'm correct, Iori's ancestor was once described as having the mind of a genius and the appearance of a goddess. But just like me, a rose has its thorns. She was a bloodthirsty assassin that had no difficulty in taking another life."

"So?" the Scrapper asked.

"Unlike logical people like you or me, people assume what you are and what you will become is based on your family's history," the shorter girl elaborated. "People tend to label you. I'm sure he's had the word 'demon' attached to him. That's what I want to see, the Demon that they were afraid of."

Kameyo just chuckled a bit. She knew how hammy Madoka could be, but she kinda liked it. As they got closer to their target, just as the sun was setting out of sight, the Scrapper put on her gauntlet, and closed her fist, sparks of electricity shooting out from in between the fingers. The two started to round the corner just before the training facility, and in front of the gate was a single person leaning against it on one side. Madoka smiled as Kameyo focused her eyes.

"Let's begin," Norihisa said.

* * *

Characters:

Iori Hasegawa and Makotsu the Duskull: NightFall-sensei

Norihisa Inaba and Michi the Carnivine: Wintre

Cyril Tesar and Svetlo the Luxio: Galaxykid

Kameyo Ine and Yuuki the Fletchinder: Masuyo Takishima

Madoka Sakurai and Dokusei the Croagunk: Umbruhon

* * *

Japanese Notes:

Fox Eyes: Have you ever noticed characters like Brock from the Pokémon anime before, specifically in regard to their eyes? Chances are we've all made this joke about our favorite Pokémon flirt, but we have always wondered why Brock's eyes are completely stuck in this perpetual state of closed. Well, even if subtly, Cyril is described as having the same kind of eyes, known in anime as the fox eyes. There are other examples of these kind of eyes in anime, but I'll stick to Brock given he's probably the one you've all seen if you're in the Pokémon section of fanfic. Anyway, as we all know, eye shape in animation, specifically anime can give the impression of character and personality based on their design. In the same way, fox eyes imply a generally optimistic personality, or a hidden wisdom to the character, much like how we think of old philosophers and scholars. When the fox eyes fully open, it means the character is in some kind of shock that they really shouldn't be, or are genuinely angry.

* * *

Pokémon Notes:

Nicknames: Okay, so since I didn't introduce any new characters this time around, I thought I'd go over some of the pokémon nicknames so you can kinda make sense of where they come from.

Makotsu: Like it was mentioned in the first chapter, Makotsu's name is made by linking together the kanji for "demon" and "bone." Now, if you were to look up the individual kanji on say a translator site, you'd fine a very different reading for them, but this is because Japanese kanji have two basic readings: one that is attributed to their Japanese reading ( _kunyomi)_ and one that is attributed to the original Chinese meaning ( _onyomi_ ). So for that, we get Makotsu's name.

Dokusei: Similar to Makotsu, this name comes from two important aspects of Croagunk. The first is that the Japanese word for toxin or poison is "Doku." The other comes from Croagunk's classification as a human-shape pokémon as part of its Egg Group. "Sei" in Japanese is a kanji referring to any form of human, normally something along the lines of a gender.

Yuuki: This one is pretty simple as "Yuuki" simply refers to the Japanese word for courage, a quality of people often meant to refer to fire and hot-bloodedness.

Michi: Normally, a word like "Michi" in Japanese refers to a road of sorts, so the correlation doesn't make complete sense at first. Another possibility is from the word "Michizure" in Japanese, which is meant to refer to a fellow traveler or companion. A bit more generic than the others, but I think it works out quite nicely.

Svetlo: This is another of the easier ones. The only of the names not influenced by Japanese as of yet in the story is Luxio's name, which is Slovak for "light." This makes sense given Luxio's name starts off with the Latin word for "light" as well.

* * *

Chapter 3 Complete: Well, that certainly took longer than I wanted. Okay, all seriousness, I'm glad I buckled down and did this chapter, even if it felt like a slog at times since it was just buildup to the battle for the next chapter. So a few things to note about this story: the first is that I will be writing a forum topic similar to what I did for HDD and a couple of my other stories after the next chapter since there will be a lot more information about the characters and such after that one. Some other things I'm planning on doing with this story is to eventually split up groups so it's not one concentrated group of six on each side of the arbitrary good and evil, and eventually it may be some characters by themselves for a majority of the chapter, similar to what I do in HDD. The third, well, the third is down below.

Okay, so this is very similar to what I did in HDD, but eventually, I will allow people to add pokémon to their characters, but only when we have a full pokémon listing for the newly announced seventh generation and their respective games of Sun and Moon. Some of you may remember when I added in Dedenne in HDD and brought in other sixth generation pokémon such as Pumpkaboo, Amaura, Noibat, Carbink, and the inclusion of fairy type as a whole. While I have doubts that Sun and Moon will add in new elements, I will be bringing in some of their new mechanics, assuming they don't interfere with the fact this is based on side games and not the main series. Either way, if you have a character with this story, and it actually does go somewhere, and to the point I can add in new pokémon, I'll let you know around the time when it gets to then after the release of generation seven. Team Moon!

Okay, so this one was kinda weird since I never got to introduce a new character in this one. Still, I thought it felt right for the story. Anyway, thanks for reading, tell me which game you plan to get when generation seven comes out, and as always, until we meet again, ja na.


	5. Deadly Tactics

Hey guys, NightFall here with the next chapter of ISK, and honestly, just as I was writing that, my hands almost went to HDD. Geez, this is gonna take a while. Anyway, so far it's been a pretty good reception on the story, this one definitely having darker undertones than HDD, at least that are right out in the open since I'm trying to make this story into more of an adventure style rather than simple school life. Obviously, I've broken away from that in HDD time and time again, but this one is supposed to go way past that. At any rate, last chapter we got a bit more into our first couple of villains Madoka and Kameyo and the prior's motivations in wanting to have Iori on her side. The other stuff we got into was a bit of Iori's past life where we was routinely bullied, and some of the skills of the other characters, Cyril's tracking, Norihisa herbal remedies and of course was Kameyo's tinkering. Anyway, we're at the climax for this particular part of the story so sit back and enjoy.

 **DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN POKÉMON, BECAUSE IF I DID, REMORIAD WOULD NOT EVOLVE INTO AN OCTOPUS.**

* * *

Chapter 4: Deadly Tactics

What is it about death that freaks people out to no end? For many, it's the thought of the unknown that comes after death that makes them worry. Is there a life after death? Do your actions in this life affect what happens to you? Did you make the best possible decisions you could in this life before moving on? Questions like this have plagued people since the beginning of time because, despite what some people claim, coming back from the dead just isn't really possible, or even humane. Many believe in the idea that when you die, your soul is what leaves your body, the essence of who you are, and coming back to life means forcing that soul back inside. From a certain standpoint, doesn't that seem a bit barbaric? There are no good answers when it comes to dealing in death, but at the same time, it's not healthy to avoid the topic altogether. When a family member dies, or someone you love is very soon going to, gaining closure about that impending death is the only thing that can help move you through the stages of grief. And it is only by facing death square in the eye that you can say "I'm ready."

* * *

Dateline: October 3, Fall City Ranger Training Facility, Fiore Region

Norihisa stayed confident in his stance, Madoka and Kameyo both looking forward and noticed a very obvious and normally fatal decision the Ranger had made. He was alone.

Looking off to both sides, there was no backup, no auxiliary forces in case things went south. This entire facility with new recruits to the Ranger program was like an open door that said "walk through me." It was just this kid and his Carnivine, Michi's eyes angled towards the Scrapper, remembering what she did to the grass type's partner.

Between the two of them, Madoka seemed the most disappointed, having no real interest in the Rangers or their battle with the Scrappers, and by now her amusement had disappeared. Cyril was interesting in his demeanor, but based on their earlier encounter, Norihisa was either too serious or too deadpanned for her to take any notice of him. She let out a small breath, and leaned against the pillars that made up the gate for the facility, her arms crossed with Dokusei following her lead.

"Where's Iori?" she asked bluntly. "I'm not gonna beat up a weakling like you. I promised Kameyo that she'd get to do that, so if you want it to happen sooner rather than later, that's your choice."

"Let's just say he's otherwise indisposed," the Ranger said confidently, Madoka scoffing, her eyes scanning the scenery, knowing that the male warrior had to be somewhere. "Besides, are you saying I'm not good enough for you?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Madoka fired back. "It'd take Dokusei one good hit to take down that overgrown weed. At least Iori gives me a decent challenge. Kameyo, do you wanna take this one?"

"More than you'll ever know," the Scrapper said, fitting on her special glove, Norihisa noticing there seemed to be more wires sticking out of it than before. "Last time, I let you off easy, but when I'm through, you won't be able to remember your own name for a week!" she shouted, Fletchinder flapping once to take off into the air, Norihisa just remaining still, seemingly unafraid.

"My job is to protect to the people," he suddenly started saying. "Whether that is from the forces of nature or man is irrelevant. I made that promise regardless of what harm my body may come under, and Michi understands this as much as I do. I can't say there are situations where either of us will be unharmed, and as a Ranger, I have by duty. Right now, that duty is to protect Iori for as long as I can, and until I am no longer required, I will fight both of you."

" _So he is around,"_ Madoka said to herself, constantly moving her eyes back and forth to try and find him. "Where are you, Hasegawa-kun?" she spoke loudly in her native language, a slight singsong tone in her voice. "If you don't come out to play, I'll just end up hurting your new friend." She waited for a response, admittedly a bit surprised when nothing happened.

"Guess you don't tickle his fancy," Norihisa commented, the Descendant's eyes beginning to dim at his words. "I'm sure he's already planning on moving along. Maybe try to keep the fighting away from the rest of us. He is considerate."

"Hardly," the smaller girl mentioned, keeping her hand to the hilt of her sword, Croagunk walking forward cautiously, half-expecting for Duskull to suddenly pop out. "The poison in his system has had almost a whole day to work its magic. By now, he must be partially blind with those colors in front of his face. And if he doesn't get the antidote in at least a week, I'm pretty sure he'll just lose his vision entirely."

"So you'd rather have him go blind than refuse your advances?" the Ranger questioned. "Geez, you're worse than a clingy girlfriend."

"I might be willing to just give this to him," Madoka started up, Kameyo a little more shaky about just trusting a Ranger in general. "But he does have to promise to help me to find the Ransei region with him."

"What's so important about finding this old place, anyway?" Norihisa asked, having heard of Iori's intentions, but never really understanding why.

At first, Madoka didn't say anything. She looked to her partner, what she and Iori called a Link, and then to Norihisa. "Imagine the people around you, the ones you love and the ones you share your life with. Now imagine them all trembling at the very mention of your name. For the people of the Ransei region, the power of their name would be all it takes to overthrow a king or leader, to make a general freeze and surrender in an instant. But today, all it does is make you feel like a monster living among humans. To be stared at with those eyes. Watching them cower away from you because they think the look in your eye can kill."

The Ranger stayed silent, even Kameyo rarely seeing this side of her partner in crime, so to speak. She wasn't the confident girl she was before. She was angrier.

"He's felt the same pain I have," she summed up. "We've been looked at in ways most people never think is reasonable. I can understand him, I can help him, and in exchange, he can help me. I'm not looking to make into a servant or slave, nor am I saying we won't clash with our ideology. There are just so few descendants of that place that we'll go extinct if we don't stick together."

Norihisa just sighed. "How do I say 'no' to that?" He pondered that thought for several minutes, Kameyo just continually looking between the two.

"So…am I busting a skull, or what?" she asked, Madoka just smirking at her question. "That wasn't rhetorical."

"If I take you to Iori, just to talk with him, will you promise not to hurt anyone else, especially those who aren't involved?" the Ranger asked, Madoka nodding, reaching into her pocket for a small vial of the liquid that was probably the antidote. "Okay, follow me."

Immediately as he turned around, Norihisa felt an immense pressure on the back of his neck, Kameyo having grasped him with her gloved hand.

"Just so you don't try anything funny," she whispered, sending a small jolt down his spine. Not enough to do any major damage, but just to know she was serious. And with that, the three started to walk through the training facility, the rest of the inhabitants unaware of anything that was happening.

* * *

It took a few minutes, but the group eventually made it to the infirmary where Iori had been treated previously for the poisoning. Slowly, Norihisa reached for the door's handle, feeling the grip behind him intensify, Kameyo making sure he was staying honest. After he'd swung the door open, Madoka pushed him to the side slightly, walking inside first.

The lights were off in the room, but the warrior knew that if she turned them on it would alert someone else to their activity, so she was content to leaving the room black. The Scrapper kept her nemesis at the doorway, grabbing one of his arms with her free one. Norihisa's breath started to quicken when he watched Madoka approach the only bed with a solid form coming out of it.

Lying in the bed with the covers completely enveloping him was a perfect silhouette of Iori. The way his body moved underneath made it seem like he was still in pain. A part of her felt sorry for him. They were of the same breed, and she was forced to do something like this to him. While it was necessary, it didn't necessarily feel good to hurt someone that you felt that kind of kinship for. She leaned over, and started to pull the covers away, seeing the top of his pale colored hair.

"I'm going to give you the antidote," she whispered, Norihisa unable to hear her, Michi's eyes slowly shifting from the scene in the back of the sick ward to its trainer and the Scrapper girl. "I hope you don't come to hate me for what I did. I just want to see the place my family came from…just like you."

Slowly, she took a deep breath, popping the cork off of the tube with the antidote, and started bringing it to her own mouth. Just before the first drop was spilt onto her tongue, the liquid stopped in midair, Madoka looking up to see where it had stopped, and then in front of her. Iori's form started to melt away until the sheets were flat, a dark, floating figure staring back at her with its single eye, a blue aura still surrounding it after having created the form underneath its trainer's blanket, now focused on what Madoka was holding.

The warrior's breath started to become more erratic, being this close to Makotsu. The ghost type's psychic powers granted it influence over the vial, and suddenly the cork was back on, and it flew straight through the room. After it passed by Norihisa and Kameyo, the Scrapper realized what'd happened, and quickly turned her attention to the Ranger.

"You asked for it," she growled, the glove sparking with electricity before nearly exploding in concentrated power. After a few seconds, Kameyo released the back of Norihisa's neck, but found that there were no scorch marks from her assault, just a pronounced impression from where she had held him.

Looking down at her gauntlet, specifically the fingertips where the electricity was shooting from, Michi's vines were almost completely wrapped around each one, taking all of that increased power. Out of instinct, Kameyo called for Yuuki, the bird pokémon flying straight down at the grass type. With its body suddenly igniting itself, Fletchinder tried ramming into its opponent, but was suddenly blinded by a mist of spores entering its eyes.

Crashing into the ground, Yuuki flapped the ends of its feathers near its eyes to try and get whatever was in there out. Turning around to glare at him, Kameyo was quickly wrapped from her waist, her arms pinned to her sides by the vine-like appendages Carnivine boasted. She growled at the Ranger and tried to break out, Norihisa just giving a confident stare to her.

"You lied to me…," he heard from a distant voice, turning around, seeing Madoka standing in the shadows, the only light visible in the room from the moonlight reflecting from her sword. "You made me believe you cared about people that have been hurt, and you don't even understand the first part of something like that."

Without warning, Croagunk leaped from the darkness, its fingers glowing in a harsh purple light. Despite its best efforts to dodge the attack, Michi was struck near its spine, an immediate reaction occurring to release Kameyo, the Scrapper instantly reacting. Without any kind of warning, she reached over to Norihisa's shoulder and quickly activated the electrical power on her gauntlet.

With that much power coursing through his body, the Ranger gave out a loud scream, only audible to the two girls and the Duskull outside which was still flying away, trying not to think about the pain as he disappeared into the distance.

A few minutes later, Kameyo and Madoka both emerged from the infirmary, a small trail of smoke wafting away from the Scrapper's glove, the two leaving Norihisa's unconscious body in the darkness. From the look in her eye, though, it was Croagunk's trainer that was having a worse reaction to everything, passing by one of the trees lining the path, and slicing through it perfectly with her sword.

"I don't suppose you have a way of tracking that ghost, do you?" the Scrapper wondered, Madoka shaking her head.

"Luckily, we won't have to," she said, sheathing her blade, quickly taking a resting stance, her legs crossed over each other, trying to calm herself after she almost lost her temper. "Iori actually cares about these people, and we can use that to our advantage. Besides, even if they have the antidote to the poison, it's useless if they don't know how it's administered. If he's smart, he'll have to come here, or he'll end up being blinded by those chemicals."

"So, we just have to wait?" Kameyo asked. "Sounds kinda boring if you ask me."

"Just find something to occupy yourself," the warrior suggested, bringing both of her hands together, slowly closing her eyes and letting out a slow breath through her nose, Dokusei following her example and began meditating along with her.

" _As if this place has anything worth stealing,"_ the older girl said to herself. She looked back into the open doorway, chuckling a bit at the unconscious Ranger. _"At least I got some satisfaction from all this,"_ she reminded herself, stretching out her back before leaning up against the stump Madoka had just made with her weapon, eventually sliding along it until she was sitting down. Her eyes slowly fell to the younger girl. _"Why did you pick me? There're better inventors than me out there. And besides, aren't you just going to throw me away like everyone else does in the end?"_ She held out her arm, and as if on cue, Fletchinder flew towards her and landed perfectly on her sleeve. "I guess it'll always just be you and me, Yuuki." She lightly stroked the bird's feathers and waited for the next exciting thing to happen.

* * *

Off in another part of the training facility, Duskull continued to maneuver around the buildings as quickly as possible, more concerned with Iori's health over its own safety. Eventually, it reached the living quarters, looking for a lit room where Cyril's silhouette was. Makotsu made a quick beeline for the open window, and floated inside, the vial of liquid falling directly into the young warrior's hand.

"Thank you," he said, quietly, stuck in a similar position Madoka was in, like he was meditating, trying to gather his thoughts before he made a decision to fight. He looked at the test tube, but the light in the room was still bothering him, forcing him to look through his barely opened eyes.

"So, what do you think it does?" Cyril asked, taking the strange medicine from Iori. "Do you think it's like eye drops? Or is it something you have to drink?"

"I'd say I have to drink it, but I can't know for sure," Iori admitted. "It could also be like an ointment I put over the wound. Maybe I should've met Madoka, instead. At least then, I'd have a chance to know how this stuff works."

"Yeah, but how big of a window would you get from her giving you the medicine and then skewering you when you refuse to join her?" the Ranger questioned. "At least this way, we have a trump card to have over her. The only thing we have to be worried about is if Norihisa's able to handle both of them." After that, the two heard a quick, sharp inhale from Duskull, turning their heads to look at the spirit, the ghost type seemingly unwilling to tell them what happened.

"Did something happen to him?" the warrior asked directly, Makotsu eventually folding its body, and nodded. "Kameyo was probably the one to take him out, given her spite for Rangers. Her gauntlet can easily incapacitate someone like him."

"So maybe the playing field is a bit more level then we'd hoped for," Cyril determined, Iori agreeing. "So, what's the plan now? We're basically walking blind right now."

"In that case, they still have the advantage," the warrior said. "They know how the potion works, they have one of our ranks probably incapacitated, and all the answers to why they're doing this."

The two stayed silent for a few minutes after that, just trying to figure out the best way to possible get through this with as little injury as possible. The infirmary was a good quarter mile away, so on foot it would take a while to get there, but not enough to tire either of them out. Svetlo was still exhausted from earlier, and its injuries weren't going to heal after a few hours of rest. Makotsu was still at full health, and it was obvious there was a chip on its shoulders after losing to Madoka's pokémon. Honestly, there wasn't much they could do.

Eventually, Cyril let out a large sigh, and fell back into his seat, Iori turning to him with an expectant look, knowing the Ranger wanted to say something.

"Why are you waiting for my approval?" the older of the two asked. "Right now I'm dead weight, in more ways than one," he commented, looking over at his unconscious pokémon, a small chuckle escaping his mouth. "But before you go out there, let me give you one piece of advice that's always helped me in this situations." Iori waited for him to continue. "Don't think of them for what they can do, but instead of what they are. Yeah, the samurai girl can poison you, cut you, and her pokémon can crush boulders, and the Scrapper can make a glove with enough electrical power to knock out a normal person. But think about what they do with that power. They hurt people, they play with their lives and emotions, and they just don't care."

Slowly, Iori stumbled over to where his weapon was propped up against the wall, Makotsu floating just above his shoulder. The two reached the still opened window, the younger male looking back at Cyril, a smile still on the Ranger's face.

"Thank you," was the last thing the electric type's trainer heard before the warrior disappeared into the night.

"Geez, eighteen and I'm already too old for this," he laughed off, looking back at his pokémon. _"Good luck."_

Back on the ground, the night sky made it easier for Iori to open his eyes a bit more, still a bit blinded by the streetlamps, causing him to flinch and almost trip over himself a few times. He was trying to walk slowly, making sure he didn't lose his footing and sustain any kind of injury before fighting his opponent. The grip on the shaft of his weapon tightened, as he tried to keep the words of his old teacher in mind from all those years ago.

" _The weapon you have is not a sword…"_ he could hear distantly, taking a small breath, Makotsu feeling a small tingle going up the ghost type's back as they continued into the increasing darkness.

* * *

Meanwhile, in front of the infirmary, Madoka was still seated with her hands clapped together, just waiting for Iori to come, having planned well in advanced he would. Her breath was calm, and the confident smile that decorated her faced had finally returned. Her blade was still sheathed on the ground in front of her, and to her side Croagunk sat in a similar silence.

As time passed, Kameyo looked back and forth from the girl to the road ahead of them, skeptical if this guy would even show up just for one Ranger. Maybe she was a bit biased on that particular subject, but it still warranted questioning. However, after a while longer, there was a change in the air that made Yuuki ruffle up its feathers.

Sensing the change in her associate's pokémon, Madoka's eyes shot open, and continued to look straight ahead, choosing now to stand up when Iori's frame started to come into view. Makotsu was directly over his shoulder, and slowly descended with him when the male warrior sat in the same way his opponent was. At the sight of each other, both descendants stared intently, their links doing the same with the opposite. Dokusei was a bit snider that its trainer and Makotsu was more than angry at the poison and fighting mix.

Both were silent for the first few minutes, trying to size the other despite neither of them moving, or showing any signs of hostility. Like Madoka, Iori's weapon was laid out in front of him, reaching almost twice as long as hers, the names carved into their respective scabbards gleaming in the moonlight.

"How's your eyesight?" Madoka asked, her opponent taking a few seconds to answer.

"Honestly, it's beginning to get a little worse than before," Iori replied. "But more than being not able to see, it's just being sensitive to the light. Was that your intention?"

"Something like that," Croagunk's trainer admitted. "At this rate, even the smallest bit of moonlight could cause your eyes to burn in pain, so why don't you just let me give you the antidote. You don't have to suffer anymore."

"I think you already know I have it," the ghost type's partner stated. "But you also know that I don't know how to apply it. So, you seem to have me at a loss. What are your demands for me?"

"They're very simple," Madoka assured. "I just want your help in finding my home. I'm pretty sure I've said it before. Our goals are similar, and between the two of us, we can jumpstart our search for Ransei. That's all I want. Just promise to help me find my home, and I don't have anything else to gain from you."

"And yet, I have everything to lose by doing so," Iori responded, clutching the potion to make sure she couldn't steal it despite being almost twenty-five feet away. "By agreeing to that, I'd have to stay out of your way if you ever wanted to do something I don't like. I'd have to abandon so many principles for a gamble that I'm not even sure will work. If we collaborate, you get all the benefit, and I get nothing. That's not a very fair deal."

"In your current position, can you afford to refuse?" the young woman wondered. "As long as you promise not to get in my way, I'll stay out of yours. Doesn't that make both of us free spirits?"

"And yet, I'd know that somewhere you could be hurting people and I'd be under a contract to not help," the male warrior threw back. "If you honestly believe I can just let people get hurt and turn away, then you have no idea the kind of person I am."

Both of their voices were getting progressively angrier, Kameyo just standing off to the side, looking like she was enjoying some kind of show, a small smile on her face as Yuuki was still perched on her shoulder with a similar sneer.

Eventually, the conversation had turned into a shouting match between children, both trying to voice their opinions louder and louder, neither one realizing that they were standing up with their weapons in hand. After looking down at their hands, fully understanding that neither was going to make a better case, they both got into a ready stance.

"With your eyes as bad as they are, can you really win against me and Dokusei?" Madoka challenged, Croagunk motioning with its hand for the two opponents to come at them.

"I trust my link," Iori declared, Duskull letting out a hollow sigh to relax itself before the battle commenced.

"Y'know, I thought we were kinda similar," the female warrior started, placing her blade to her side, her hand just barely over the hilt. "But now I see we really do clash."

"In more ways than one," her opponent agreed, his words harkening back to what Cyril had joked about earlier.

Within the blink of any eye, Madoka drew her sword and swung it at Iori in a single motion, his current blindness making it difficult to find the flashing metal, just barely keeping it from his side. With their weapons stuck together, the longer weapon's scabbard fell to the ground, revealing the full length of the glaive's blade.

The two pushed together until they were forced to separate, Madoka noticing a difference in the way Iori was fighting, just in that one exchange. She took a second to gather herself, and then held her blade in another stance, trying to determine another angle to attack from. Iori, however, just kept the same position, holding the blade of his weapon low to the ground, trying to see what Madoka was going to do next.

The female warrior slowly let a breath out through her nose, and then took a step forward, prompting her opponent to step back, tilting his weapon to the side, as if preparing for the attack. Given his condition, it made sense why he was on the defensive, Madoka knew that, but there was something in the way he was now holding his weapon.

" _That's a practicing stance,"_ she told herself, noticing how low to the ground the blade was. _"He couldn't beat me in a freestyle match, so he's just going to act like a child with this, then. In the end, it won't matter. I have the will to attack as though intending bloodshed. Do you have that, Iori?"_ The answer to her question was going to have to wait as she lunged, thrusting her blade forward as though to stab him.

With just a single side motion, the two blades connected at their hilts, Iori having a far better angle of momentum to swing the katana over his head and to his other side. With a quick attack, he pressed his palm to her stomach and gave a huge push to her gut.

As Madoka slid across the ground, holding her abdomen, she looked up at Iori and smiled, finally having a match to excite her. She clicked her tongue and Croagunk was now at her side. Iori didn't even have to say anything for Duskull to remain near his shoulder. Both held their weapons in resting stances, the male warrior barely still unable to grasp everything that was going, but bowed to his opponent as though it were an official tournament.

"Dokusei…," Madoka started. "Poison Sting!" she shouted out, the toxic amphibian opening its mouth with a flurry of tiny, poison-filled needles shooting out at Iori.

"Will o' Wisp," Iori said in retaliation, Duskull floating through its partner and held out its limp arms, several fireballs beginning to appear, acting as a shield as they ran straight into the stinging attack's path, absorbing and neutralizing it all into ash.

After their starting attacks, the two pokémon raced forward, Madoka's preparing another Poison Jab attack, the fronts of its fingers burning in a sickly color, and Iori's swinging its arm out in front of it, creating a gust of inky black wind. The two attacks collided again, and again were about the same power level, Iori starting to lose focus on both of his opponents when he heard Madoka leap forward through the Ominous Wind attack.

Having to react quickly, Iori placed the blade of his weapon aside his face, catching Madoka's sword a few inches from him, but suddenly felt a greater pressure on the blade as though all of her weight was on it. Sure enough, using his lack of eyesight to her advantage, Madoka used their connected weapons to lift herself off the ground, delivering a large kick to his stomach, one of her heels even connecting with his rib.

As he stumbled back, he could feel a light touch on the ground, placing his weapon in front of him for defense, only for the hilt of his opponent's blade to attack him just as Croagunk soared in his face. Makotsu was still after the pokémon, looking down at Madoka who was just about ready to finish Iori off. Remembering what had happened earlier, the ghost dove downward passing directly through her blade, making Madoka flinch.

Just barely able to see that, Iori swung his weapon around and struck her shin with the shaft, causing her to fall onto one knee. By now, both were starting to pant, catching their breath, Iori looking behind him with one eye to see Norihisa just barely visible in the infirmary.

"Why're you so fine with hurting people?" he suddenly asked, rising back up to his feet. "Is it so easy to mute their screams and pain?"

Madoka didn't answer at first, taking in a small breath before holding her weapon at the ready again. "I became good at hurting people because if I didn't, they'd have hurt me. I'm sure you know something about that." She was right, Iori could remember when his master came across beat up and hurt by the others he trained with. "Why do you feel so content in fighting me is the real question. I'm offering you a chance to go home, and yet you continue to fraternize with people below you. As much as I would love to share the land of Ransei with Kameyo, I know it's impossible. Whether by way of her own abilities or our ancestor's traditions, when I reach Ransei, I may never see her again, and that breaks my heart."

The Scrapper didn't really react to what she said, but her eyes had started to shift after the fact.

"She's a good friend, but if that's your only reason to fight against me, because that person in there is your friend, then my resolve is just that much stronger," she continued. "We have a responsibility to our own people, and to bring in those that will be destroyed by that is the only place I've done a true wrong. I didn't want Kameyo to stay with me for so long, but now, there's just no getting rid of her." A smile was on her face now. "Can you really say that you want to put him or anyone else in that position?"

"That should be for me to decide," a weak voice came up from the infirmary, Norihisa walking into view with his hand over where Kameyo had struck him on the shoulder. "This is the first interesting that's ever happened since I became a Ranger, and I'm good seeing it through to the end." His smile was confident despite how weak his body looked, and the injuries Michi had sustained from earlier were still there.

"Kameyo," Madoka sounded, the Scrapper already knowing what to do, Fletchinder taking off into the air to chase after both the grass type and its trainer. "They shouldn't bother us any longer."

"So you still want to continue?" Iori questioned, holding up his blade to match hers.

"With every passing moment," the female warrior said eerily, lowering her entire body as though trying to pounce, only for Dokusei to jump into the air off of her back, its attacks now centered on the human rather than the pokémon.

With its Poison Jab already charged, Iori looked up and was immediately blinded by the light emanating from its fingers, forcing him to turn away from the pain. Makotsu floated in front of him just before Croagunk attacked, using its Ominous Wind to block the attack.

Tumbling backwards through the air back to its partner's side, the poison and fighting type gave a quick hissing sound as though to intimidate Duskull, the sounds of Kameyo and Norihisa still fighting in the behind them. There were too many sounds and flashes of light from pokémon attacks and streetlights for Iori to see much of anything, the Ranger noticing and then quickly turning to the ghost type.

"Hey, bonehead!" he shouted, Makotsu more than offended at his comment. "We need a blackout!"

Looking up at the lamps above them, a small sneer was visible in the pokémon's eye, and with a flap of its arms, the Will o' Wisp attack burst over the electric lights, shorting them out like it had in the battle when they first met. Now the scenery was dark enough that Iori could open his eyes at least a little, able to apprehend his surroundings just a bit more, finally able to see all of Croagunk.

"Just hold them off for a few minutes, I'll make this quick," he whispered to his link, Makotsu nodding as it flew back into the fray, the swirling mass of wind for its ghostly gale preparing itself. Immediately after the pokémon left, Iori sat down as though meditating, grinding his teeth as he pulled out his sketchbook, quickly drawing out Croagunk's silhouette.

"Stop him!" Madoka shouted, Dokusei and Yuuki both changing their targets to where the trainer was seated helplessly.

"Sorry," Norihisa said, the vines of his pokémon quickly wrapping around the avian body and Duskull melting into shadows to attack the poison pokémon from below. "This isn't going to end with your win." Before Norihisa could say anything more, though, Madoka rushed forward, grabbing her scabbard on the way, and threw it forward, intending to strike the Ranger.

As the wooden sheath screamed through the air, passing directly above where Iori was drawing, and then immediately seemed to stop in midair. Madoka's smile started to return as Norihisa and Kameyo both watched in amazement how strong her opponent was. With one hand now away from his work, Iori stared forward at Madoka, slowly and respectfully placing the scabbard on the ground to his side, and started to stand back up.

"Do you mind if I see how you captured my Dokusei?" she asked, Iori sliding the sketchbook along the ground, Madoka sitting down in the same position, admiring the work he'd done in so little time. "There's a certain romanticism to the way you draw pokémon," she said, flipping through the pictures of some of the other species he'd drawn. "Tell me, did my Link scare you?" she asked, looking forward.

"No…," Iori answered, having to keep his eyes completely closed just from the light of the moon. "He hurt my friend," he started. "And for that reason I will always fight you."

"Then bring it on," Madoka challenged, Croagunk running straight at him, the poison type jumping into the air almost twenty feet above where Iori sat.

"Makotsu," the male warrior ordered, the ghost pokémon jumping out of the shadows to meet its amphibious foe.

Already prepared this time, though, the poison type's arm was completely coated in a black aura, rocketing it straight down towards its opponent. Upon impact, the two pokémon remained connected, eventually striking the ground, the pavement around them fracturing until it just reached to the seated trainers.

As the dust settled, Dokusei walked out completely uninjured, jumping backwards so it was next to Madoka, the female trainer looking at Iori triumphantly. However, after a few minutes, the rest of the debris in the air started to swirl around in a black, inky mass, eventually getting blown into the sky where it slowly dispersed all around them. Noticeably hurt and exhausted, Makotsu turned its attention down to the duo with scuff marks all over its face.

"That thing just doesn't go down, does it?" Kameyo asked from behind, Iori turning to her and seeing Norihisa still deadlocked against the bird pokémon flapping flames at his partner. "But I think you'll find I can make things move along faster. Call it off," she said threateningly, placing her gauntlet against his chest.

"You really would kill me if I refused to help," Iori figured, Madoka nodding.

"If you won't be my ally, then you'll become my enemy," she said. "I'll give you one more chance. Join me."

"…No," the male warrior said confidently, a small spark starting to appear from the Scrapper's glove. With a single, admittedly concerned breath, Iori looked up towards Makotsu, the ghost type flinging its arm behind it with another Ominous Wind, this one aimed for its own partner, Croagunk quickly striking it from the side.

With the sudden gale coming onto both of them, Kameyo was forced to brace herself as Iori simply let himself get blown away towards where Norihisa was, using the shaft of his weapon to balance himself.

"You're definitely resourceful," the Scrapper complimented, looking to her pokémon, giving a strong nod. "But as long as you're allied with him, then you're as good as dead to me."

Without warning, Fletchinder flew all around them, its beak wide open to release a steady stream of flames spewing out, surround both Iori and the Ranger in a small ring. Michi came up from behind, about to swat the bird away when Dokusei quickly stabbed it from behind, holding to up with its Poison Jab, and throwing it inside the inferno with them.

"As long as that poison remains inside of him, he's going to become nothing more than a limp," Madoka said, now standing up, sliding her sword inside the scabbard as she passed by it on the ground. "If you promise to leave him, I can administer the antidote to him now."

"And what's to stop me from doing it?" Norihisa asked, the flames forcing Iori to keep his eyes shut, the vial still clutched in his hand.

"How about the fact you don't know how?" the warrior questioned in return, Norihisa taking the liquid from his friend's palm, and then tried to think about it. "I'm only going to give you a few minutes to make your decision," she warned, both trainers and their pokémon circling their prison, Makotsu still at the other end of the battlefield exhausted.

The Ranger looked at the bottle, taking off the cork and was about to just pour it into Iori's mouth having him lie back to make sure it actually went down into his system. But just before a single drop left the glass, his eyes shot open, looking back at Madoka. The strange girl watched him closer, noticing that was just looking at the vial, and then took in a slow, easy breath to relieve his stress.

"This'd better work," he said quietly, suddenly dropping the contents into his mouth, forcing himself not to swallow as he lifted up Iori's head. _"Please work…"_

Madoka almost cursed as Norihisa pinched her opponent's nose, and told him to open his mouth. As the two collaborated, the Ranger took a few more breaths through his nose, and then clamped his mouth over Iori's. As the liquid passed into his mouth, it was like an instant reaction until the entirety of the contents were swimming through his system. After the two separated, Iori sat up straight, holding his head up with his eyes still closed, letting the liquid travel faster down his throat.

"How could you know?" Madoka asked.

"You showed me," Norihisa answered, remembering when she was about to give him the antidote earlier when she thought he was still in the infirmary. "You brought the liquid to your own mouth, and I've heard of a lot medicines that react with another person's saliva to become effective. You gave me the answer I needed."

Slowly, Iori's form started to stand back up, letting out a cool, icy breath through the flames, travelling straight towards Duskull, the ghost type feeling the life of his partner returning to him. Even if just by a little, the warrior's eyes were beginning to heal, able to see past the fire, ducking down as soon as Makotsu's Ominous Wind enveloped the blaze. The heat immediately disappeared, Kameyo about to move forward when Madoka put her scabbard in front of her partner.

"He's mine," she said, holding her hand straight up with all but her index and middle finger folded. Knowing what was going to happen, Iori pushed Norihisa behind him, not wanting anyone else to get hurt by what was going to happen. "This is one attack you can't just push away."

Iori closed his eyes again, continually remembering the words of his master from those years back. "The weapon I have is not a sword," he said aloud, the others confused by his meaning. "Not a sword…"

"What are you talking about?" Madoka questioned, her energy beginning to build as she let her breath out, Dokusei flinching like it was just injected by something. "It doesn't matter what it is. With this, you'll fall just like before." Her smile was confident as the word came to her mind once again. _"Konshin!"_

Suddenly, the red energy started to come off of Croagunk in waves, increasing its muscle output, Duskull quickly melting into the shadows to speed towards it before Iori was hurt again. With a single step of its leg, Dokusei was racing across the ground, Iori saying what he had been for the entire time again, this time as though realizing something.

"Not a sword…so when it's not a sword…," he started to say, Makotsu coming straight out of the ground, but Croagunk was already prepared for that, powerfully bringing its arm up to an attacking position, ready to stab straight through the ghost type's bony face. _"If not a sword…"_

As soon as Dokusei struck the spirit, the ground around the two of them started to crumble and created a giant ripple directly from the pressure in the poison type's feet. But in a moment of shock and awe, Croagunk's victim was still in place. The poison type tried pushing harder and harder, but eventually, a green, smoky aura started to come off of Makotsu's body similarly to what was happening to the amphibian. Looking forward, Madoka and Dokusei saw Iori holding his hands in the same position the female warrior was.

"If I'm not a sword, then I am a shield," he said calmly, his eyes opening with the same brilliant hue that Madoka's had when she infused her power into her pokémon. _"Kataimamori!"_ he shouted in his mind, the aura surrounding Duskull acting like a barrier as Dokusei kept trying to attack it. "Your power is starting to run low. As strong as you want to be, you still fight exhaustion."

Madoka grinded her teeth and then threw off her sword's scabbard and ran past her partner, Croagunk spitting some poison on the metal as she did. Copying his opponent, Iori started to run towards Makotsu, the ghost pokémon offering a small fireball the immediately ignited the edges of the blade. The two collided, and immediately separated as their pokémon did the same, not even taking any more time to size each other before going in again, maneuvering and expertly attacking each other as their pokémon continually got involved.

As Madoka made a quick stabbing motion, Iori caught the blade, and pushed it above her head, Duskull pushing her along the street with an Ominous Wind. As she slid across the pavement, Croagunk caught her and then spat out a series of Poison Sting attacks, the needles about to strike when Makotsu accepted all of them, its defenses still having the added boost to keep it from sustaining too much damage.

Using that as cover, Madoka held her blade up close to her face, creating something a platform for Dokusei to jump off of, speeding past the ghost type and striking Iori with a powerful punch. As he fell backwards, sticking his blade into the ground to keep him from going back too far, quickly dispersing the flame that Makotsu had made.

Figuring it was best to even the playing field, Duskull flew towards the female warrior, setting a small fire on the metal of her sword, essentially burning the toxic liquid away. Just like before, though, Iori couldn't help but notice she'd flinched when the ghost type drew nearer to her.

"Are you afraid of him?" he asked, almost as though mocking her.

"I can't help it!" she shouted a bit pathetically, her legs almost looking like they were going to give out from underneath her. "I can't kill it, how do I know it's not gonna steal my soul or something?! So keep it away!"

"Y'know, seeing you like this almost makes it worth torturing you with him," Iori said with a small grin.

"Don't start teasing me!" she shouted back, the two returning to just shouting random insults at each other, Kameyo and Norihisa just watching them go back and forth with it again.

"It's like watching a weird old couple," the Scrapper remarked. "They might actually be a good match, huh?" she asked Yuuki, the bird ruffling up its feathers.

" _That's what she's worried about?"_ Norihisa questioned, knowing if he said it aloud, he'd be electrocuted. _"The way they were battling earlier, it wasn't just one at a time, but they were battling all four at once. If either of them decided to join together, there's probably little they couldn't actually do. And both of them have those special powers, it's like something out of an old legend or fantasy novel."_

* * *

After a while, both of the warriors seemed less interested in battle as Makotsu finally returned to Iori's side, the power that it had been infused with earlier finally wearing off, Dokusei's having done the same long before. The two were now seated again with their legs crossed, about five feet from each other.

"It's too bad I wasn't the one to save you," Madoka said with a smile. "Maybe I could've convinced you. But I will find my home with or without you. I just thought it'd be nice to share."

"In a different time, in a different place, you and I could've been friends or something similar," Iori replied. "But as it stands, you and I took different paths. We were both hurt, and we both wanted to do something about it. We made our choices, and that's something we have to live with."

With the tension between them finally subsiding, Kameyo gave a large sigh and started walking towards her partner, noticing a small pink blob floating from the other side of the horizon. She tried getting a better look by squinting, but could tell what it was until it was too late.

Suddenly falling between both of the Ransei Descendants, a small, round, and very pink pokémon looked at both. There was an innocent look in its eyes, but Kameyo knew exactly what it was.

" _Lullaby?"_ she questioned, recognizing the pokémon's nickname, the Munna smiling at both warriors until a strange look in its eyes suddenly came over both of them. "Madoka!" she shouted, the Hypnosis Munna, or Lullaby as it was named, used knocking them both out as Norihisa ran to Iori's side. The Ranger and Scrapper's eyes met, and the two wondered where this was going to lead. "You take care of yours…I'll take care of mine," she growled.

"Fine, but next time, we finish this," Norihisa returned, Kameyo carrying Madoka away while Yuuki pulled up on Dokusei's body. "Come on, let's get you back to the room," the Ranger said after they'd left, Michi's vines wrapped around the sleeping Duskull.

* * *

Off in the distance, near a parked, black car, a strange figure stood with a bag of something clutched in one hand, a long stick of food in the other, contently eating whatever it was. As the streetlights around the figure came on, a curious sight began to emerge.

Whoever they were, they were pretty average in height, probably only just taller than Norihisa and Kameyo were. The face wasn't very identifiable on gender, but with the rest of the body and clothing, a good argument could be made for male. He was fairly slim, and his black hair was a mess on his head, almost like he'd just woken up. His skin was a sort of olive color, his eyes just a few hues darker than that. Despite his age, which could've been anywhere from seventeen to twenty, he was dressed fairly well, black slacks and shoes, a white dress shirt and a crimson colored sport coat.

As he looked down the way, he could hear a series of footsteps, seeing Kameyo and Yuuki come into view with Madoka and Dokusei still asleep.

"Rhodis…," the Scrapper hissed, really not wanting to see this particular person.

"Please, call me Fritt," the man insisted. "Besides, had I not acted sooner, you two would be in Ranger custody. I'm not gonna let that happen to my two favorite girls," he said, helping Kameyo load the warrior into the backseat of the car, and her pokémon as well. "So, what did you find out about the new muscle they have?"

"That he's basically a male version of Madoka, minus the bloodlust," the girl said, stepping into the front seat as Fritt kept eating from a bag of what looked like breadsticks. "If we wait much longer, they will find us."

"Hey, you'd wait for your partner," the strange man said, holding up a curious little device, almost like a game controller with a screen in the middle. It showed a small blip moving towards their location, and soon the Munna from before came into view. "Lullaby, you came back!" he shouted as hammy as he could, embracing his pokémon before it and Yuuki went to the backseat as well. "I'll have to look at these readings later."

"I'd like to know how you put that little thing together," Kameyo said.

"And I'd like to know what kind of Scrapper doesn't like stealing," Fritt returned, starting up the vehicle. "It's in our blood, young apprentice," he said, indicating that he was a Scrapper himself. "Besides, as long as we have her, we have one of the ultimate weapons."

"Don't call her that," Kameyo warned. "She's my friend, and a much better than you or me. If she wanted to, she'd decapitate you."

"I don't doubt it," the other Scrapper agreed. "But as long as we need her, I can spin some different tales about how vital she is to us, and when she leaves us, you can skip along into whatever fantasy world she came from with her."

" _If only I could,"_ the girl said to herself, looking back in the car at how content Madoka was in her sleep. And yet she was working with this kind of scumbag. Fridtjov Rhodis was a notorious Scrapper, even among their own kind, and had never been see, identified, or even caught by the Rangers even once. How did she get involved with him? Better yet, how did Madoka ever get caught by this idiot's web?

"There's a motel about twenty miles out of town that'll be a good hiding spot for a few days," Fritt explained. "We can figure out our next move with the kid when we get there. Who knows? Maybe we'll see her boyfriend again." The car drove off into the distance, and was gone by the morning after, abandoned on the side of the road.

* * *

Dateline: October 4, Fall City Ranger Training Facility, Fiore Region

Iori had been asleep most of the day, his body trying to get him back on his original schedule where he'd be awake again that night. Norihisa and Cyril both were standing in front of Laura and Cecelia who were trying to make sense of what happened the last couple of days.

"So, the kid is able to make his pokémon pretty much untouchable?" Breloom's trainer asked. "And he did this so that a crazy, sword-wielding girl didn't slice him up like salami?"

"A tad graphic, but yeah," the youngest Ranger confirmed.

"Norihisa, what happened to the two of them last night after the battle?" the chairwoman asked.

"Well, a Munna came in and knocked both of them out with a Hypnosis attack," he started to explain. "And I decided it was better to get Iori to safety rather than try and continue the battle for any longer. I mean, you saw the damage those two were able to do out there."

"If I may," Cyril spoke up, Laura allowing it. "I think the Munna was one that Scrappers know as Lullaby. He's the pokémon associate to the Scrapper that others have just called Rhodis. Some of the Rangers in nearby towns have had run-ins with this guy, but he's never near his pokémon. So by the time they can track him down, he's already gone."

"Were you one of these Rangers?" Laura asked.

"Yeah," the taller one answered. "Sad part about it is he's never hard to track because of those bread crumbs he leaves everywhere. It's like walking through a bakery."

"Well, at least we have some information about what happened," the chairwoman admitted. "Miss Cecelia, go contact some of the other Ranger Facilities, and make sure they're on the lookout for those three. I'd like to keep these warriors out of this conflict as much as possible. If we can save Madoka Sakurai from this group of people, maybe we won't have to employ any more of Iori's services."

"Are you afraid he'll _stab_ us in the back later on?" Cyril asked, slapping his own knee again, his demeanor returning since Svetlo's recovery.

"Norihisa, I'm too far away," Cecelia mentioned, the younger Ranger just giving Cyril a quick slap to the stomach with the back of his hand.

"So what's our next course of action?" Carnivine's trainer asked.

"Right now, I'd like you two to keep interacting with Iori, maybe he can help us understand what's going on with these people, and why so many of them are just now appearing," Laura explained. "If you can do that, we might also be able to find more of these people before the Scrappers can get them over onto their side. I'm not interested in causing a major panic if that group of people has warriors like either of those children on their side. So why don't you two travel with him for a while. It'll give you good experience for when you're cleared to do freelance field work."

"Sweet," Cyril said, clearly loving the idea of being away from the confines of the city. "I'm assuming we'll help out whoever we can along the way?"

"It'd be nice," the chairwoman said. "Just remember to keep Iori safe at all costs. If people know how powerful he is, they might try to abuse his talents. In fact, I'm hoping he leaves so that I don't get the same temptation."

"Don't worry, ma'am," Norihisa said. "We'll keep him safe."

"Good, you're dismissed," she said, shooing them off. Cecelia had just come back from the back room when they left, Laura looking out at the scenery of her facility. "I hope they can do it."

"How hard can it be?" Breloom's trainer asked.

"That damage down there was caused by two kids and their pokémon," Laura said, looking down at the rubble that had been created by Iori and Madoka's battle. "What happens when they meet someone like that, but is much more unstable? Or when they find someone who doesn't agree with Iori's ideology? The fact is this escort mission is going to be more dangerous than any rescue or crime that those two will ever be involved in."

Outside the Ranger Facility, Iori stood with the shaft of his weapon against the ground like a walking stick, a bag of supplies given to him by the others over his shoulder and Makotsu ready to head out like he was. As he did, though, a smile came across his face as Cyril and Norihisa joined him on both sides, carrying similar packs. Cyril's was filled with all kinds of different equipment for mountainous terrain, harsh conditions, and Norihisa's contained several kinds of herbs, medicines, and cook ware.

"Thank you for saving me," Iori said to the grass trainer. "It must've been…uncomfortable to have to do that," he added on, remembering that Norihisa had to press his mouth to Iori's.

"I wouldn't worry about it," Norihisa said, Iori looking up at him a bit confused. "I don't get as uncomfortable about that kind of stuff as you think," he said, taking a few steps forward.

As Iori thought more about last night, his mind fell to Madoka, the female warrior doing the same as she stared out a motel room window. _"I will make it back home…"_ both said in their own minds, Madoka looking forward at the two Scrappers she'd become affiliated with, and Iori picking up his walking pace to catching up with the two Rangers. And it was by now they realized this adventure had just begun.

* * *

Characters:

Madoka Sakurai and Dokusei the Croagunk: Umbruhon

Norihisa Inaba and Michi the Carnivine: Wintre

Kameyo Ine and Yuuki the Fletchinder: Masuyo Takishima

Iori Hasegawa and Makotsu the Duskull: NightFall-sensei

Cyril Tesar and Svetlo the Luxio: Galaxykid

Fridtjov "Fritt" Rhodis and Lullaby the Munna: StattStatt

* * *

Notes:

Kataimamori: So in this chapter we get introduced to Iori's Warrior Skill from Pokémon Conquest. This one is based on the Japanese name for the ability "Fortify" which increases defense for a certain amount of time. From Japanese this skill is much more easily deduced. First, it comes from the word _katai_ , which can be written as硬い meaning "stiff" or "solid" and then _mamori,_ which is written as守り meaning "protection" or "defense."

* * *

Pokémon Notes:

Munna: The Dream Eater Pokémon, 2'00" (0.6m), 51.4 lbs. (23.3 kg). Munna is a fairly infamous pokémon because of a line from the original Pokémon Red and Blue/Green game titles where an NPC character remarks that there should be a pink pokémon with a floral pattern, much what Munna has. Pokédex entries for this one saying that will eat the nightmares of people and that when it eats a good dream, a pink mist will expel from its body. Like the pokémon Drowzee, this pokémon is mostly based on the mythological tapir, a fictionalized version of the animal that was said to eat the dream of sleeping people and use that for nutrients. The pink mist it expels is most likely based off of incense, which often induces meditative and hypnotic trances. Munna's name, which is the same both Japanese and English, can be based on the Japanese reading for the kanji for dream "mu" and the Latin _luna_ meaning moon. There are other inspirations such as the Japanese word for flower, the onomatopoeia for eating, and parts of aikido that can refer to the concept of having no thought in the mind.

* * *

Chapter 4 Complete: Again, way longer than I ever want to spend on these chapters, but real life stuff gets in the way, a general lack of motivation, and all that tend to keep me from this as well. But at the same time, I hope this shows to other people who've read my stories in the past that this one is serious to me. I want to do this story, and I actually enjoy a lot of the characters so far. Speaking of which, this time we get an intro to Fritt, or Fridtjov, the first one's easier. He's definitely more villainous by comparison, and I think he'll be a lot fun, and speaking of fun.

If you're like me, then you probably were ecstatic about the news from Pokémon Sun and Moon with the reveal of the new starters Rowlet, Litten, and Popplio. Like I said, eventually I'll allow another pokémon for each of the characters after the release of all the seventh generation pokémon, so this is just the first step to all of that. Anyway, I wanted to ask you guys, which team are you on? Personally, I'm going Rowlet all the way. I've only not picked a grass starter in one game, and I'm definitely back into it since it's A, a grass type, and B, an owl. It's true that sometimes you just get lucky. Anyway, let me know which game you plan to get and which of the starters you're going for. So like I said, I'm Team Moon and Rowlet, what about you? Well, thanks for reading, and until we meet again, ja na.


End file.
